


A Few Notes

by hernobleness



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Chrobin - Freeform, F/M, Heavy Angst, Light Angst, Music, behind the canon, extra scenes, fire emblem awakening ost, soundtrack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:45:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 55,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernobleness/pseuds/hernobleness
Summary: The story of Robin, Chrom and the Shepherds told through anecdotes across the timeline of Awakening, each one-shot chapter set to a song from the beautiful soundtrack we hear along the way. Because sometimes, a whole story can be told through just a few notes.Latest chapter: I carry only the finest!Lucina remembers Frederick fondly as they chat at the forge. Robin is eager to pass on her old cloak and teach Lucina some magic.





	1. ID Serenity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been needing a way to keep up my English skills (forgetting your native language is easier than one might think), and with my love of Fire Emblem, I decided to take up fanfiction.
> 
> I first posted this fic to FFN, and recently finished it (so all the characters and pairings you see listed are already written and coming soon to a chapter near you). However, I'm working on improving each chapter to start posting here at Ao3 :) These go in chronological order, but they're technically one-shots that can be read alone.
> 
> Well, without further ado...

**ID Serenity**

* * *

 

With the morning sun came dew coating the lushious meadow grasses, glistening green stretching as far as the eye could see. The previous night's events considered - lava having exploded from the ground itself, undead soldiers having fallen from the sky - Chrom found it almost hard to believe that such chaos could once again turn into the purest serenity of dawn.

 

His training regimen having made him into an early riser, Chrom had found himself awake at the side of a burned out campfire just at sunrise. Lissa and Frederick had been laying on the other side of the fire pit, deep in sleep, as well as Sully and Virion, who'd joined their company the night before. But only a robe of deep purple and gold had lain in place of the sixth member of the party. He'd looked around, but saw no sign of Robin anywhere in the near vicinity. So, wiping the sleep from his eyes and exhaustion from his muscles, he'd stood and went in search of her.

 

Considering her amnesia and the collapsed state he'd found her in to start with, he'd worried something could've happened to her. He was at least thankful she'd left her cloak, providing him solace in knowing she hadn't run away.

 

So there he found himself, wandering through the expansive meadow, his boots getting wet and slick from dew as he found himself approaching a small riverbank – pale blue in the light of the rising sun. It didn't take long following the water's clear surface down a ways for him to spot a figure standing at its edge.

 

Robin stared downwards, lost in thought evidently, her hair down and disheveled from having slept on the ground and her pale arms bare without her cloak. Chrom sped up his pace to reach her, hoping he wouldn't startle her. She stood so still, and for a person with few memories in her head she looked very pensive.

 

Chrom came ever closer, but her thoughtful gaze remained concentrated on the river. Just when he thought he would have to shock her out of thought alone, her body left its standstill and began to fall backwards, her white hair blowing forward and covering her face as she collapsed backwards onto the grass.

 

“Robin!”

 

Breaking into a run, Chrom called out her name. He had only just found her, only just started getting to know her. For the gods to pull such a person as her away after so little time, someone with so much potential... It would simply be cruel.

 

When he reached her side, however, his worry rather suddenly turned into confusion. Her eyes were open, her breathing still steady. Looking down at her, she looked perfectly conscious.

 

“Robin?” Chrom tried grabbed her attention, worry drawn on his face. “Are you alright?”

 

It took a second of delay before Robin's answer came.

 

“Yes, I'm fine,” she replied gently, her eyes still focused on the sky above her. “That was nothing but a silly idea of mine.”

 

Chrom took a seat beside her, balancing himself on the slope down to the river. “Oh?”

 

“I thought,” Robin began to expand, sitting up and leaning back on her hands. “Maybe if I tried to recreate the moment when I collapsed, it might spark a memory.”

 

“And? Any success?”

 

With a scoff through her nose and a gaze dejected, Robin replied, “No.”

 

Chrom felt a pang of sympathy for his new friend. He could see in the slight knit of her brows that she was trying to hide real frustration, perhaps even sadness. Well, of course she was... He couldn't imagine losing all of his memories of his life, and he knew he would be desperate to get them back if he ever did. Though it was easy for him to say; he knew what he would be missing. Robin, on the other hand, really _had_ lost all her memories, and she hadn't the faintest idea what it was that was leaving such an empty space in her mind.

 

“It's odd,” Robin continued, gazing out at the half risen sun on the horizon. “I remember basic things like eating and walking. I haven't unlearned how to speak or use weapons. I know that that in front of me is a river and this on the grass is dew. I know dew is formed by a drop in temperature overnight. But when it comes to _myself_...”

 

“You remembered your name,” Chrom finished for her, only when it became clear she'd trailed off forlornly. He felt it necessary to remind her she hadn't forgotten quite everything about herself.

 

“Yes, I did,” Robin confirmed to herself, sounding a bit encouraged by that statement. Turning to Chrom with a smile, she also added on, “And yours. Somehow.”

 

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands as she was. “Perhaps you were a seer, not a tactician,” he japed.

 

“I hope for the sake of your Shepherds that isn't true!” Robin replied with a laugh. The solemn look on her face was completely replaced by a bright smile now, and Chrom felt pleased to know he'd helped her out of her state. He hoped to be as good of friends with her as with his other Shepherds.

 

They spent a peaceful moment on the grass simply enjoying each others silence. The sound of the river flowing was an incredibly helpful way for Chrom to forget the stresses of the night before and the stress to come when they reached Ylisstol. He had been out with Lissa and Frederick for nearly a month on his first official mission, visiting villages and ridding the countrysides of brigands in the name of the capital. As soon as he got back, he knew he would be forced back into his stricter daily routine as well as find himself dealing with the new threat of the undead soldiers.

 

But in that moment, it was just him and Robin, enjoying one another's company as they acclimated themselves with each other. There was always an adjustment period to getting to know someone new. This, Chrom knew from his experience in recruiting his other Shepherds. It was unfamiliar, sometimes awkward. Sometimes it took months before conversation came naturally!

 

But with Robin, things just seemed to be happening. Perhaps it was Lissa's presence and charm that had helped to lighten the mood, or maybe it was the way they were thrown into combat together so soon. In any case, he felt... familiar with her. It was reassuring. Comforting, even.

 

“So tell me,” Robin finally spoke up after a short moment, snapping Chrom out of his thoughts. “When exactly will I be meeting these Shepherds of yours?”

 

“Well,” Chrom replied, thinking over the schedule he and Frederick had planned for arriving back in Ylisstol. “We're set to arrive in Ylisstol, the capital city, this afternoon. We'll make a quick stop to see my sister, and then from there, it's not far to our base. So I'd say this afternoon for sure.” He ended with a smile, hoping it was soon enough for her.

 

“This afternoon?” Robin asked with shock, her brown eyes widening. “That's so soon!”

 

“Haha! I thought you'd be eager to meet them.”

 

“I am! I am,” she rushed to clarify. “I just was expecting more time to prepare myself...”

 

Chrom realized a change in her face, a decided appearance of composure. It was a less than convincing disguise of her nervousness.

 

“You don't need to prepare yourself too much,” he told her with a chuckle. “They're fine people. They'll like you no matter what.”

 

Robin almost seemed to doubt him for a fraction of a second. But as quickly as that thought must've entered her mind, it left as she turned to face him. A small smile graced her pale lips as she asked, “Are you sure?”

 

“Positive,” he answered, a smile mirroring hers as he felt his face heat up ever so slightly. “Trust me, we've seen worse.”

 

Robin's eyebrows suddenly lowered as her smile became an amused smirk. “And what's that supposed to mean?”

 

Realizing his blunder, Chrom found himself struggling for words. Robin's intent gaze did nothing to help.

 

“No, no! Nothing bad! Just, well-... What I meant was.... The Shepherds are a very unique group of people. Someone with amnesia would be one of the less odd ones of the group. So if that's what you're worried about, then you shouldn't be.”

 

Robin hesitated a moment before letting out a light-hearted scoff. “It's hard to imagine someone with odder circumstances than being found unconscious in a field with no memories,” she said, letting her eye contact with Chrom break in favor of gazing back out at the horizon.

 

“It's hard for most people to imagine a group like the Shepherds,” Chrom pointed out. It was true that most of his comrades were 'characters' as the people in the court would call them, a disapproving word disguised in politeness. The Shepherds were people from odd backgrounds, people with eccentric personalities. But there was no doubt they were people he felt he could trust more than any others to fight for Ylisse and be true comrades.

 

“Well, you seem fond of them at least,” Robin said, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards again. “That's encouraging if nothing else.”

 

“I am,” replied Chrom in complete honesty. “I am very fond of them.”

 

“Then I can't wait to meet them.”

 

As the sun reached its place in the sky, Chrom and Robin remained on the riverbank, peacefully silent once again as they thought about the hours to come. Robin was cautiously excited about meeting the Shepherds she would be commanding, and Chrom was excited to introduce her to them. She was another 'character', though without the condescending connotation. She was interesting and clearly intelligent. The prince had a feeling she'd fit right in.

 

This made it all the more easy to relax along that river. Robin laid back on the grass and closed her eyes. Chrom continued to look at the now risen sun, in the direction of Ylisstol, where counsels and duties would await him for sure. Though to feel too much stress about the hours to come wasn't quite possible. With the sound of the river, the cool dew on the grass (which thanks to Robin he now knew how it came to be), and the relaxed amnesiac by his side, all he could feel was peace. Serenity.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess I finally found a decent use for those 30 minute extended versions of songs on YouTube considering I listened to Serenity's like 3 times while writing this.
> 
> So, what do you think? Pretty please leave a comment!


	2. But, Frederick, it's nearly dark!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lissa and Robin take a "small" detour through Ylisstol on their way to the Shepherds' garrison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always wish we had gotten to see more of Ylisstol in the game. It seemed like such a sweet, friendly city.

 

The previous evening, all that Lissa had seemed capable of was repeating one question: "How much longer until we reach Ylisstol?" Even from atop Frederick's horse (her lamenting about the blisters on her feet had finally worn the man of chivalry down) she'd continued to grumble about the heat, the bugs,...

"I'm hungry!" she'd whined, her voice taking on that of a child ten years her junior. Her three comrades walked alongside her steed, listening halfheartedly. "Why didn't we bring better food along? Something quick!"

"Don't worry, Lissa," Chrom had quelled his sister's bellyaching, still remaining patient and kind with his younger sister. Though upon closer examination of his concentrated gaze, Robin could tell he was beginning to lose his patience. "In a little bit here, we'll stop and make camp for the night. We'll cook something up then."

"What?!" the young girl had squealed with disappointment. Her face whipped to face her brother, her mouth remained agape. "You mean we're not making it to Ylisstol tonight?"

"No, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with us a bit longer."

It was then that Frederick had decided to chime in, offering his counsel as he quite often seemed to. "I'm sure we could make it, milord, if were were to keep up our walk for another 4 hours or so."

Lissa's face had visibly fallen at the estimate. Appalled, she protested, "But, Frederick, it's nearly dark!"

Robin had remained mostly quiet until that point, not having found it her place to deal with plans to reach a city she knew nothing of. However, she hadn't seen it unfit to tease young Lissa a bit.

"Lissa," she'd giggled, a pale eyebrow cocked at the young healer. Gazing up at her with a hand over her eye, she'd been able to shield herself from the glare of the setting sun as she'd asked cleverly, "Which side are you on? Marching on or camping out?"

"I'm on the side that teleports us there _now!_ I wanna go hooooome," Lissa'd groaned poutily, throwing her head back in exasperation. "I want a bed that isn't made of dirt. I want a bath that isn't a river and doesn't have fish in it!"

Robin had laughed in response as Chrom had said with a smile, "Remember what Emmeryn always told you Lissa: Patience is a virtue, and-"

"Virtue is a grace," Lissa had drawn out with a slight roll of her eyes, sounding as though this were the thousandth time she'd heard that saying. "I know."

* * *

The next afternoon, Lissa's wait paid off.

Finally, the young girl – princess of the realm as Robin now knew her – was back on the streets of her hometown. After a quick meeting with the Exalt in the palace, Lissa had dragged Robin back out to visit the Shepherds' garrison, though not before taking a "short" detour through the city.

"Oh, I have so much I need to show you!" Lissa's excitement was tangible as she dragged Robin behind her by the arm. Admittedly, this was difficult, as the tactician's curious eyes lingered on every building, and her body tried to remain behind with them.

She'd never seen such a big city before. At least, not to her memory. Every way her eyes looked were tall buildings of warm brick, market stalls filled to the brim with foods and unique handicrafts, and people. People in every corner, moving in every direction – a flowing mass of fabrics and hair colors and skin tones... Robin never imagined any one area could be so full of life at once.

Being in such a lively place... It wasn't hard to see why Lissa had been so eager to get back.

"Home grown peaches! Three for 5 Gold!"

"You there, young man! You look like you'd be interested in the finest pocket knives south of the border wall!"

"Elsie! I'm so glad you made it!"

"My paw says it could take three weeks 'fore we can get that pig pen all up 'n' ready to go."

Conversations from all around her flooded her ears as she followed behind Lissa. From ahead of her came the giggles of two young women, arm-in-arm as a group of attractive men passed them by. Across the street, two farmers tried to unload cages of chickens in front of a butchery. An artist almost hit her with the easel bag he had over his shoulder as Lissa pulled her forward.

Everywhere people were together, shopping and chatting and going about their lives. As Robin stared in wonder, she couldn't believe so many separate things could be happening at once. It was chaos, little bits of it in every inch of the streets, and each bit lived and flowed in harmony with the ones around it. It was order, but in the way of an abstract painting: messy and yet somehow coherent, beautiful.

She decided right then and there that she was a fan of big cities.

"Ooh!" Lissa suddenly came to a halt, pulling at Robin's elbow excitedly, snapping her out of her trance. That Lissa's arm wasn't hurting by that point from dragging her new friend around was a miracle...

"Wait right here!" The young princess commanded with an excited smile. Her gray eyes sparkled as she proclaimed, "I know what I'm buying you first! These things taste so good, you won't know what to do with yourself!"

Robin already felt her mouth water at the sound of 'taste.' She'd not eaten since the campfire the night before... "What are they?"

"You'll see!"

In a blur, Lissa's yellow sleeve unlinked itself from Robin's arm as she darted off towards a booth on the roadside. Robin let out a lighthearted sigh; that girl certainly was a ball of energy. However, it was clear this tour of the city was meant in kind, so she'd say nothing against it. As anxious as she was to meet the Shepherds, she did feel a certain pull towards the city. The bustling masses, the unexplored streets... It was all just waiting to be discovered.

Robin felt a smile crawl onto her lips just before the sun glinted in her eyes. She raised a hand to her brow as a visor, allowing her head to gaze upwards at a small clock tower in the distance. How idyllic it looked... Elegant, white stone, green trees in its background and bright banners waving on the streets in its foreground.

A contented sigh escaped the amnesiac's lips. She could get used to remembering sights like this.

A tap on her shoulder a moment later alerted her to Lissa's presence at her side once more. With a satisfied smile, she held in her hands two round treats on sticks covered in a golden glaze.

"Here, try one!" she insisted, holding one out to Robin, who took it gingerly in her hand.

"What is it?" she asked Lissa as she curiously examined the street food. As she twirled the stick between her fingers, the sun glinted off the glaze on the... Fig? Pear? Gourd?

"It's a honey-coated pear!" Lissa replied, the bounce in her voice making it evident that this was a favorite treat of hers. "They're all over Ylisstol, but these are the best ones. Go ahead, try it! It's delicious, I promise!"

The younger girl brought the pear up to her mouth, though Robin didn't look long enough to realize she was not, in fact, biting into it yet. In a moment of courage, the first time snacker brought the honey-coated treat straight to her mouth and took a large chunk out of it.

Or, rather, she tried to.

"Ahh!" A sharp crack resounded from her mouth as she let out a groan, holding a hand up in front of her teeth. A rough patch of broken honey and barely-touched pear lay behind on her treat. "Oww! My teeeef, Lissa! How can you eat thif tuff?!"

Lissa hastily removed the pear from her mouth, sugar and saliva around her lips, and she began to laugh. "You have to suck on it a bit first, silly! You'll break all of your teeth out if you don't!"

Robin let out a scoff, the pain in her teeth subsiding as the corners of her mouth pulled upwards. "I think I'm already part of the way there," she remarked sarcastically.

With a lighthearted giggle, Lissa grabbed Robin by the wrist, pulling the hand holding the pear down. "You don't have to eat it if you don't want to. Chrom hates them too, but he always buys one when we're in town anyway. He just gives his to me."

Lissa suggestively nudged her friend's elbow, taking a bite from her own treat as she glanced down at the one in Robin's hand with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. Robin willingly obliged and handled her snack over with a smile. The dull pain in her teeth was all the tasting she needed of that "treat."

Over the course of the next half hour, Lissa – happily sucking on her honey-coated pears and smearing sugar all around her lips (like a true royal) – took Robin to a number of other food stands, buying numerous exotic fruits and baked goods (or simply receiving them for free with a flash of her smile and the vendors' realizations that she was the princess). Following that, they found a stand selling clothing, another selling jewelry, and yet another selling leather works. It was at the last stand that a bound journal, red and ornate, caught Robin's eye. Lissa bought it for her as a gift; her first new possession.

A secondhand book stand came next, where Robin received three small books in addition to her journal, and a final booth selling sweetbread came last. Only then did the princess finally decide they'd seen enough for the day.

* * *

"I just knew you were a bookworm!" Lissa declared when, at last, they began to make their way to the garrison, gesturing to Robin's gifts: the journal and the three books. "You have that clever, smart look."

Robin let out a gentle laugh, opening her coat to stow her new belongings away in the inner pockets. "I hope that's a compliment."

"Oh, definitely!" Lissa assured her with a reassuring smile and a vigorous nod of the head, her curly pigtails swinging with the motion. "I was never very into books. We have the best library at the palace, though! I never used it much... Just for lessons, but I think you'll love it!"

"Really?" asked Robin, her voice perking up. She somehow didn't find it shocking that Lissa wasn't the type to spend her days in the library. She seemed far too active for something so stationary. Out in the city, active and social, seemed to be where she best fit in. But for an amnesiac, a room full of information couldn't hurt in a quest to regain some knowledge and memories...

"Yeah! I'll get Chrom to show you around if you want," Lissa proposed.

Robin didn't find that a bad idea at all. She'd need to get the know the prince better anyhow, seeing as she'd be working for his army. What better way to start than in a familiar place such as a library? However, this plan didn't have a chance to run far, as Lissa found a hitch in it before Robin even had a chance to show her approval.

After a short 'hmm', Lissa mused, "Though he hardly uses the library either... He'll probably tell you he does to try to impress you, but he doesn't."

Robin chuckled at Lissa's comment, wondering if all siblings had such a teasing relationship as the prince and princess.

"We'll have to ask Emmeryn," continued Lissa. "Or I bet we could ask Miriel when we get to the Shepherds' garrison. She's one of our mages – practically lives in the library!"

Robin could hardly imagine bothering the exalt herself for a simple library tour. But this Shepherd mage did sound interesting...

As they neared the garrison, Robin's mind filled with ideas of who would await her once she reached her destination. A mage of high intellect, perhaps a few dozen gallant knights – experts in their class and training machines, probably a fair number of pegasus knights – speedy and agile on their carefully bred mounts... Her heart beat a bit faster in either fear or anticipation to meet these elite warriors. The Shepherds... And what a noble name for them!

When Lissa pointed out the garrison and announced they'd arrived, Robin could scarcely contain herself. A small, stone fortress on the edge of a training ground dotted with targets and dummies, all sitting in the shadow of...

"Lissa... Is that the royal palace right next to us?" Robin couldn't decide if she was amused or annoyed to see the white stone of the castle towering over her, perched on its hill in front of the slowly setting sun. "We were a five minute walk away this whole time?!"

Her aching feet... Her aching stomach! That "short" detour, and the garrison was practically on the palace grounds all along!

"Huh!" Lissa exclaimed with false disbelief, an impish smile on her face when she turned to face Robin. Blissfully insincere, she claimed with a small laugh, "Guess I never noticed!"

Robin could do nothing but chuckle and shake her head. In honesty, looking at the young princess and feeling the gifts she'd received from her resting in the inner pocket of her cloak, she couldn't be too upset. She had beautiful gifts, she was fed, and she'd made – she hoped – a new friend.

All she could do was smile and keep walking alongside her. She'd been through Ylisstol with Lissa and made a friend. A connection. Some memories.

Now it was time to go through the garrison with the Shepherds and make some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually hate pears, meaning the taste description on those honey-covered pears was not so much an option. Also not the biggest fan of honey XD But somehow Ylisstol strikes me as a very honey and pears and sweetbread kind of place. Those are all very classic, pure, classy foods.
> 
> Also that red journal is supposed to be the one that you see on the "The End" and "Game Over" screens. Thought I'd throw that in there.


	3. It appears the capital was spared the chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chrom and Sully are buddies.

 

The doors to the council room lay far down the hallway of the palace, a very welcome distance growing ever larger between them and Chrom's retreating back. His elder sister and the other generals and city officials had stayed behind while he'd taken his leave. A march to Regna Ferox was decided on, and he needed to track down his Shepherds to deliver the news.

It seemed he'd grown unused to the tense, formal environment of the palace counsel since he'd been gone. He felt more weighted down after his single hour in the counsel room than he had in his months of tracking down dangerous, blood-thirsty bandits. For as thankful as he was to be back home with Emmeryn, back home where he had his own bed and warm meals, he still found a part of himself longing to be back out in the open fields with Falchion in his hand.

The sound of thick, oaken doors being pulled open drew his attention to his side. Knights began pouring out of one of the conference rooms, chattering between one another with mixtures of excitement and worry. It seemed they'd just gotten released from their briefing...

Frederick and Phila had both bowed out of the counsel meeting earlier than Chrom, leaving to inform their respective knights of their upcoming missions against the Risen. The prince had stayed behind with the generals, the ambassadors and the Exalt to discuss the political implications of the new enemy.

Chrom peeked in the conference room over the flood of knights on their way back tot he training grounds. Each passed him with a nod of the head or a "m'lord", which he returned with a smile. At the front, gathered with the other lieutenants and generals, he saw Frederick. Back straight, brow furrowed... Clearly he was deep in discussion. Chrom would just have to go to the garrison without him for now.

The prince allowed himself to flow away from the door with the sea of armor around him. As they left the threshold, the knights spread out through the hall, though they all remained headed toward the same goal: the barracks, which just happened to be near the Shepherds' garrison. Chrom tried to pick up on some of the conversations along the way.

"...far do you think we'll be going?"

"I doubt they're anything to worry about! I mean..."

"... think they'll try to eat our brains?"

"Don't be an idiot, Edwin."

"Captain!"

His eyes widened, shocked to hear someone calling his name amidst the other voices. He halted and turned over his shoulder to see none other than Sully making her way down the hall towards him. Her red armor was rather easy to spot in the mass of knights in blue.

Chrom smiled as his friend approached him. Some company would be welcome!

"Oh, hey, Sully," he greeted the knight with a smile. He couldn't have been more glad to see her of all people. After hours in the counsel room, getting to relax his speech would be a welcome blessing.

Where Sully was concerned, plain speech was a given. Ever since they were children, she had been one of the few people who didn't treat Chrom with the same formality as the other playmates arranged for him. Her parents - well-respected and honorable knights - had never raised her to be stopped by boundaries of class. She was taught to judge a man by his strength rather than his purse, and therefore saw Chrom and the majority of her fellow soldiers as equals. It was one of the main reasons he'd invited her to join the Shepherds, knowing she'd make for a good team player.

Sully took a place by Chrom's side, and the two continued their conversation as they walked through the palace halls.

"You heading down to the garrison?" the knight asked, looking up at Chrom as she walked.

Chrom nodded. The word 'garrison' sent adrenaline through his chest. Over the course of his mission across Ylisse, he'd wished a thousand times over that his Shepherds had been with him. As trying a task it was to put up with them on some days, when all was said and done, they were his closest friends, and he felt stronger with them by his side. 'Mighty is the sword that fights supported', as a tutor of his had always said.

"I have to deliver word of the march tomorrow."

Sully's face brightened at the mention of a mission. "Nice! Everyone's gonna be happy to finally get some action!" she exclaimed with a laugh. With their general's and lieutenant's absences, the Shepherds had been without leader and without action for far too long. A group of soldiers such as themselves got antsy when left sitting idly for too long.

"You think so?"

"Hell yeah! Why do you think I was so damned anxious to find you and your party last night when I heard what was going on?"

A worried and judging glance followed from one of the knights passing the duo, a young woman likely off-put by Sully's use of such brash language, with the prince no less. Sully caught her eye and simply raised a red eyebrow at her, silently daring her to speak out. The onlooker scurried away and held her tongue.

Chrom chuckled. With that strong will of hers it only made sense that she'd be itching get back to the field the most. She must've heard about the skirmish with the brigands in Southtown the previous evening and hopped right on her horse, hoping to help out if any other problems arose. Indeed they did arise, and he was thankful she'd been there to lend a hand.

"Haha. Well, I hope the other Shepherds will share your ambition." Though he knew that few in his personal army reached Sully's level of dedication, he had an inkling they would be more than ready to get back to action.

The only question that remained was whether or not Sully and Stahl would be able to come along at all. The cavaliers and pegasus knights were being sent to scour the countryside for more Risen, ensuring no villages faced surprise attacks. As far as Chrom knew, a few longer-term posts were being given out; if any of his Shepherds got assigned to one, he'd have to have a talk with their higher-ups before the day was done...

"I hope you'll be back in time to march with us, won't you?" he questioned his friend.

"You bet!" Sully replied heartily. With a clap on his back that landed a little too hard, she assured him, "The general knows my jobs with the Shepherds come first. No way I'd miss a march to Ferox in favor of being on some dumb distance patrol!"

Chrom smiled, a small weight lifted off his heart in knowing one of his closer friends would be coming along. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Gladder to tell it."

"So if you won't be on one of the long distance squads, how far _will_ you be going on your patrol?" 

Sully pointed an armored finger ahead of herself, gesturing casually in the direction of the knights' training grounds. "On my way to get orders now, but I got put on one of the brigades with some of the newbies, so I don't think I'm going far. Frederick knows he, Stahl and I need to be back by morning."

"Yes. Although..." Chrom thought of the long list of incidents the Minister for Defense had read off during counsel. Countless villages all over Ylisse had seen Risen spawning in their outskirts since the night before. The patrols wouldn't be limited to Ylisstol's suburbs, but rather every inch of the land. "It appears the capital was spared the chaos, but the lands around it weren't so lucky. I'd wager you'd be going as far as Southtown or Themis, if not farther. We have to leave for Ferox at dawn. You're sure you'll make it?"

Sully nodded, self-assured as she placed a fist over her heart. "Absolutely," she swore. "Knight's honor."

Chrom went through the mental checklist of who he'd have with him along the mission: Vaike, Maribelle and Lissa, perhaps Sumia, Miriel, Robin, and now Sully and Frederick were for certain. That left only Stahl. And perhaps another:

"Can I count on..." Chrom began to inquire about the archer they'd encountered the previous evening. He'd returned to Ylisstol with Sully ahead of the main party that morning, and Chrom hadn't heard a word of him since arriving back in the capital. "Blast, what was his name? _Virion_ 's presence as well?"

Sully let out a snicker. "Dunno. I managed to get the ruffly bastard stuck on Frederick's brigade," she answered. It seemed he would be sticking with the knights to help purge the Risen. "If all goes according to plan, he'll annoy the metal monster so much, he won't live to see morning, period."

Chrom could practically see Frederick's look of annoyance as Virion launched into another dramatic monologue. Frederick was a patient man, but even he would be challenged to survive another mission with the new archer so soon after recovering from the first one.

"Merciless as always, I see," Chrom laughed, hard and genuine.

"You got that right."

It was then that the hallway finally entered the open air, a courtyard lining the left side and a path to the knights' campgrounds at its end. In the distance, down a hill to where the barracks were, a crowd of metal was gathering. The Ylissean knights stood in the center of their camp, likely awaiting their orders regarding their new missions.

"Well, here's where I step out," said Sully, gesturing towards the camp with her thumb. She couldn't miss hearing the orders being passed out. "See you in the morning, Chrom."

"'Til morning, Sully," Chrom replied with a friendly wave of his hand.

"Tell the others I said hey." Sully ducked out of the hallway, heading in the opposite direction of the prince as he continued on his way to the Shepherds' garrison. Though before she'd gone too far, she called back over her shoulder, "And make sure Vaike doesn't creep the hell out of poor Robin. It's her first day; we don't wanna lose her already!"

A problem Chrom hadn't yet considered, and yet a problem he probably should've.

With a worried but amused chuckle, he called back, "I'll try."

He continued around to the other side of the courtyard and made a left, making his way through the inner halls to the front door of the palace. He certainly hoped the Shepherds were on their good behavior with their new recruit...

Though just in case, perhaps he should quicken his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always picture Chrom and Sully having been pretty good friends, what with running around playing Goblin King as kids and Sully just being one of the boys.


	4. We'd best prepare for combat, just to be safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's actually supposed to be a chapter before this on the Shepherds' Garrison, but I just can't get it to not suck, so it'll get added in later.

**We'd best prepare for combat, just to be safe**

* * *

"Robin, it's just a march! Get your nose out of that book!" Lissa joked with the tactician. She earned not even a glance from the woman, who opted to leave her face buried within the cover of her strategy book. Currently, the pages were mixed with dozens of sheets of paper, each one full of scribbles and lists.

The Shepherds had been on the march to Ferox for roughly an hour, and though it was true that all was going well so far, there was no such thing as over planning in Robin's mind. Especially not when she was on her first mission - her first chance to prove herself to the army.

Curiously, Lissa peered into the strategy book from Robin's side. Though still, she tried to draw the tactician away. "We aren't expecting to run into any armies on the way."

"Still," Robin muttered over the scratching of her quill, brow deeply furrowed and eyes burning into her pages. "We'd best prepare for combat, just to be safe. There's no telling what surprises might jump out at us."

Lissa teasingly rolled her eyes before tugging at her brother's sleeve. "Chrom," she whined. "Do you see what we picked up in that field?"

"A hard-working and dedicated tactician," said Chrom with an air of humor in his voice. He glanced down into his little sister's eyes with raised eyebrows. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Lissa."

"Hey! Not fair!"

Robin smiled from behind her book of notes, a slight blush creeping onto her face. She was happy to be making a good impression.

"Lissa, how many uses would you say your staff has in it before it'll need repairs?" she asked, gingerly taking the iron rod out of the young healers hands. Carefully, she examined its surface, noticing chips and signs of wear and tear in it.

"Hmm..." The young girl squinted at her staff, thinking hard to come up with an estimate. She had used it quite a bit during the mission through Ylisse with Chrom and Frederick. "Five or six maybe."

Robin nodded, giving the staff one more twirl in her hands to check its durability. Quite unexpectedly, this motion triggered a flash of white-bluish light in front of her face. With a yelp, the tactician jumped back in surprise. 

Guiltily holding the staff out to be taken back by its owner, Robin corrected, "Make that four or five."

With a flip to a large piece of paper in the back half of the book - done quickly and surely enough to show that the chaos within the covers was completely organized in the owner's mind - Robin scribbled down one or two more notes before scurrying off behind the commander and his sister. Her quizzing of the other soldiers began.

"Stahl! Tell me, you wield both a sword and a lance, right?"

"Well, I'm more of a sword guy, but I've been trying to..."

Their conversation faded out of Chrom and Lissa's earshot as they continued to march forward, leading the small army forward. They had set out at dawn, and now that a good hour had passed, the sun was comfortably bright in the sky, a cool morning breeze making the march still bearable.

"We really did get lucky didn't we?" asked Lissa with a smile. Chrom looked down at her, waiting for her to explain further. "Right when we thought we'd lost the only good tactician we'd ever find, there was Robin!"

Lissa had finished with a happy giggle, leading Chrom to smile in return. It was true. Not an hour before finding Robin in that field, they had struggled to get by in a fight against a particularly odd pack of beasts. Chrom wasn't blind to the fact that it was largely in part due to the fact that he and Frederick had been fighting melee style, trying to slash through enemies on strength and dumb luck alone as they had against the brigands during their mission. He was miserable when it came to developing strategies, and he knew it. Had it not been for the band of heroes chasing the beasts themselves, headed by a royal tactician, they wouldn't have made it out alive.

He had been hoping the foreign royal would've been willing to lead the Shepherds to offer a strategic mind, but all hope of that was slashed upon their decline. And then, as if sent by the gods, another tactician appeared right in his path.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder to watch Robin discuss something intently with a knight. Once again, the feeling washed over him just how much this one woman could change the fate of his army. Another saying of his sister's came to mind: A single grain of rice may tip the scale. And though she'd yet to lead the whole of the Shepherds into battle, he could sense it in her furious note-taking and her obvious passion that she would be an exceptional grain of rice.

"Yes," Chrom answered his sister, quick to turn back around before getting caught staring. "We did get pretty lucky."

As Robin made her way through the rows of soldiers around them, her voice floated back into Chrom's ears.

"You see, if you hold the tome like this," she explained to he assumed Miriel, the only other tome user in their army. "It'll wear on the bindings in the spine significantly less. And be careful not to whip it open too forcefully, hm? You want it to _fall_ open, not tear, so you can read the script with more concentration and avoid damaging the tome."

"Thank you for the observations, Robin." Yes, that low, factual voice was definitely Miriel's. "I'll be sure to take them into consideration during our next battle. I only hope I can implement your advice without jeopardizing my adequacy when wielding the tome itself. I'm afraid I've grown quite accustomed to fighting with a rather specific form and manner."

"I don't want you jeopardizing your life in any case! If you feel you can manage the improvements today, try it. If not, play it smart and work on them when we have time to train. Okay?"

"Understood, milady."

"Please, just Robin is fine."

Chrom couldn't help but smile when he heard her lead her conversation with the mage, her voice surprisingly kind considering the commanding nature of her words.

"Chrom!"

Turning around with a jolt, he noticed Robin was now heading straight for him. Rather nervously, he was snapped out of his thoughts as all her possible questions rushed to him at once. Hurriedly, though making sure to maintain his composure, he began preparing answers for the questions he was expecting to be drilled on from her: Falchion wouldn't break, but his rapier had seen better days. He knew how to wield a lance from his brief stint in cavalier training as a young boy, and would take it up again if she thought it wise. His sword-wielding was wasn't perfect, but he was certainly one of the most proficient in the army, if not Ylisse...

"I just wanted to run a few strategic formations by you," Robin told him, opening her book of notes sideways to a few loose leaf sheets. Without intending to, Chrom let out a sigh of relief, earning him a curiously amused look from Robin. "Did I have you worried?"

"No, not at all," he answered with a chuckle. Trying to explain himself as honestly as possible, he continued, "You can just be a bit intimidating with that book of yours!"

Robin laughed and apologized before hesitantly jumping back to her original purpose. "So, I've drawn up a few possible enemy formations here that we'd be likely to see, and I wanted to run them by you so you'll be able to help me lead them out. Here, we have the classic surrounding, where they try to enclose us in a circle. My proposed solution would be to form two groups spearheaded by our strongest and..."

As Robin pointed here and there over her messy black and white pages, Chrom found himself more and more... lost. There were numerous formations from both the offensive and defensive sides that he'd never have even thought of! Was this what tactics held in store? Had he truly been missing out on this much in all his battles? He found himself almost worried about leading such strategies, worried he himself might not follow them well enough.

Robin was explaining everything in brief, likely as a preemptive measure in case they saw battle that day. He'd have to spend some more time with her going over them once they settled into camp.

"Alright, that's all I have for now," Robin finished up a few minutes later, closing her book and clutching it close to her chest once more. "Of course, I'll need some more time to develop them. And you and I will have to set some time aside to go over them in more detail once we set up camp, but just in case we see action before then..."

"Then we'll be ready to face them head on," Chrom finished kindly, pride and humor in his voice. "Thank you for your dedication, Robin. You're a gift sent from the gods."

The tactician smiled back, bowing her head slightly in respect and gratitude. "I should say the same of you and your Shepherds! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to help."

And with that, she was off again, gone to ask Frederick about his capabilities with the axe. Chrom was left behind with a feeling of anticipation in him, though at what, he couldn't exactly pinpoint. He was excited to try out and develop the new strategies; they could boost the Shepherds' performance by leaps and bounds! He was excited and preparing himself to ask Robin to teach him the art of strategy, at least some basics so as to improve his own knowledge.

A sense of hope filled him as he thought about the days to come, having a strong feeling things were about to begin improving for the better. A seed of worry remained in his stomach in regards to the uncertainty of what was to come in Ferox; however, in his renewed and boosted state of confidence, he was sure they would be able to handle whatever lay ahead.

Just imagining it: The Shepherds, a force to be reckoned with, sent his heart pounding. His might and Robin's mind leading them to victory. Oh, the hours they could spend together, planning and plotting, improving... 

"Whatcha smiling about?" came a sweet and teasing voice, snapping Chrom out of his thoughts. The prince very suddenly realized he'd had a smile plastered on his face as he looked down into his sister's amused eyes. He would have been able to explain everything perfectly had it not been for that impish look on her face, as though she knew something he hadn't said out loud. "Hmmmmmm?"

What was she trying to imply? "I'm just happy, Lissa."

"Okay." Somehow that tone sounded sarcastic. Her overly dramatic glance at Robin was uncalled for. That and the small wink that accompanied it...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small reference to Robin's access to all classes ;)
> 
> Also, put a chip on "vague Kellam reference" on your Fire Emblem Fanfic bingo cards, boys 'n' girls.


	5. We should turn in for the night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lissa being a sweetheart and bonding with Robin

 

**We should turn in for the night**

* * *

 

There was no saying that the setting of the sun meant the end of the day in the Shepherds' camp. No, activity continued far into the hours of the night, much later for some than others...

Robin was snapped out of the page of her book by the sudden realization that it had become quite hard to read the words of her story. With a glance upwards into the real world, she realized her candle was again running low. The wick was almost burned to its base. The thought that she should replace it was quickly replace by the question,  _Just how many new candles have I had to light this evening?_

Bringing her feet down from the wooden stool on which they'd been propped, Robin sat up in her chair and took a moment to look around the empty communal tent. Everyone else had left, but she knew not how long ago. It seemed only seconds ago that Lissa and Stahl had been serving food in the front, Miriel had been studying Kellam, and Sully and Chrom had been tending a fire pit outside. Where had they all gone?

With a groan and a glance at the candle's now significantly diminished length, Robin realized after a quick reflection that that was her third burned out candle of the night. It had to be well past midnight. Damn Sumia for giving her such an interesting book to read!

Just as she was about to stand, resigning herself to her need for sleep, a rustling came from the front of the tent. Her candle still had a bit of fire left in it, but Robin could nonetheless barely see through the shadows. Her heart rate elevated as she realized she had no weapons on her hand. Frantically (and with an attempt to keep quiet), she began rustling through her loose papers on the table in front of her searching for a tome, but alas, she found nothing.

The flap of the tent rustled open as Robin braced herself, forming a fist with her hands and preparing to fight off this thief or brigand bare handed.

"Robin?"

Rather than a thug clad in animal skins and bones, there stood in the doorway a young princess in a pale yellow nightgown.

"What are you still doing up?"

Robin sank bank into her chair, a breath and a weight leaving her chest as she relaxed her fist and let the sudden tension escape her body. Of course it was Lissa; the two of them had been sharing a tent while Robin and Chrom tried to procure (and budget for) additional ones. Everything in her body loosened up again once she let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, Lissa, thank goodness. You scared me."

" _You_ scared me!" the young girl exclaimed, letting out a breath of relief, rubbing her eyes and pushing some of her blonde hair behind her ear. "I woke up and saw you never came back to the tent."

"You shouldn't have come out here unarmed," Robin chastised her tentmate, noting her extreme lack of... swords, staves, armor, _shoes_... "I thought Chrom talked to you about putting yourself in danger."

Lissa's mouth frowned guiltily, recalling the tongue-lashing she'd received from her older brother when he discovered she'd been trying to scout enemy forces alone. She had been a bit put out that Robin had sold her out to him, but in the end she really was sorry...

"Yeah, he did," Lissa admitted, making her way towards the back of the tent to Robin's table. "But I knew it was you in here anyway! Who else would be crazy enough to stay up this late reading?"

Robin gave a lighthearted scoff, closing her book and placing it on the table, though perhaps best to keep it out of Lissa's sight... At such an hour she had no desire to be mercilessly mocked for getting so absorbed by Wyvern Wars: Terror at High Noon. The name alone was embarrassing enough.

As Lissa approached the chair next to Robin and was just about to sit down next to her, the latter hollered out and stopped her. "Wait!" She held her arm forward as if trying to magically stop the girl from taking her seat.

The princess stopped, wide-eyed and frozen.

"Show me your hands."

Lissa, with an impish smile she didn't intend to show, held up her hands to show they were empty - free of any frogs, toads or other general mayhem-causing prank props. Robin had had enough of those in the past couple of weeks, and she wouldn't let herself be fooled again.

Seeing the suspiciously empty palms of the young prankster, Robin arched a pale eyebrow. "Pocket?"

Nothing in her nightgown's pocket.

"Back."

She turned around. Nothing behind her back either.

"Okay, have a seat."

Lissa happily took her spot next to Robin, curling up her legs into her chair. When asked if she was even tired, she simply replied with, "Not ever!"

"I'm actually glad you're still awake," Lissa began, resting her elbow on the back of her wooden chair, her fist supporting her cheek and squishing it upwards. In such a casual position, Lissa never would've struck Robin as regal. A one-of-a-kind princess, she was... "We almost never get the chance to talk! There's always so many people around."

"What do you want to talk about that can't be discussed in front of others?" asked Robin, her interest piqued though slightly worried where Lissa would take this conversation... Heavens knew how deceptive that tomboy exterior of hers could sometimes be.

"Hmm..." Lissa's lips pursed as her eyes thinned comically as she tried to look contemplative. Once she was done 'thinking it over', a smile spread across her face as she focused her eyes on Robin. "Most girls talk about _boys_ when they're up late like this!"

Somehow, the tactician wasn't surprised, though that didn't mean she didn't feel her stomach tighten a bit. Most likely in fear of the suggestion. "Most girls don't have better things to talk about?"

"Aw, come on! I'm curious! Isn't there anyone in the army you've got your eye on?"

"Anything else you wanted to talk about with me?" Robin brushed past the topic, making sure to keep her tone gentle with the princess, though making it clear even within her humor that she was not going to do boy talk. Robin had to _command_ those men! She couldn't start drooling over them like the women in Wyvern Wars did over the hero. Even if many of the heroes in Robin's life were rather dashing...

Lissa smiled and thankfully dropped the topic before allowing her face to go a bit more somber. "Actually, there is something else I'm supposed to ask you."

"Oh?"

With a bit of hesitation, Lissa asked with pursed, contemplative lips, "How could I be a better princess?"

Robin'd body paused, the question taking her by surprise. It was a very sudden switch to a topic unusually... mature of Lissa. She almost never asked such things. She never even seemed to think too much about her position as princess unless she was trying to do something devious and didn't want to get in trouble.

Giving the only reply she could think of, Robin said with a slight smirk, "Well, you could stop putting toads down people's coats, for one." In reality, she couldn't think of anything else to say. Why was Lissa asking her, of all people? Would it not be more pragmatic to heed Frederick or Maribelle's counsel on such matters?

"Yeah, yeah, I heard that stuff already." Lissa waved the notion off with a flick of her wrist. Though quickly thereafter, her face turned more serious. "I mean really... When I compare myself to Chrom or Emm, I feel like I'm not living up to my station."

Robin stared at Lissa for the shortest moment. Was she serious?

"I mean, Chrom is the captain and everyone looks up to him. Emmeryn is... Emmeryn! She's perfect! And I'm just... me."

The poor girl looked so miserable. _Really_ sad for the first time Robin could remember. Her gray eyes had fallen to the ground, the corners of her mouth as good as falling down with them. Robin was so used to seeing her looking cheerful, even if it wasn't always with the purest intentions...

She placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder, drawing her attention away from the ground. "Lissa, do you _really_ want to know how you could be a better princess?"

The young girl nodded, her eyes wide and shockingly similar to her older sister's.

"Stop comparing yourself to your siblings." Robin looked the young princess hard in the eyes to make her point clear. "While it's true they're both amazing people, you have something they don't: You make people smile! And especially in wartime, a smile is worth as much as any fancy weapon we could buy."

"Really?" Almost invisibly, Lissa seemed to perk up. Her body barely reacted, but her eyes and face lit up once more.

"Really. _You_ , young lady," Robin began, staring Lissa down with a teasing smile, a hand placed gently on her blonde curls. "With your off-color practical jokes and your mean name calling and your _very pouty face when you get very cross._ " Robin leaned in a bit, comically pursing her lips and lowering her eyebrows to mimic Lissa's look when she pouted, normally to her brother. "You remind us of the innocence and happiness in the world, and that helps us keep going when things get hard. Just as Emmeryn embodies peace and Chrom embodies confidence, you embody good spirits. Don't ever forget that or think that isn't important."

A smile broke onto Lissa's face and Robin couldn't help but follow suit. When that girl's smile wasn't at your expense, it was almost impossible not to mirror her. "Gee, thanks, Robin! No one explained it to me like that..."

"How many people did you ask?" Robin could almost picture the young girl now, going from person to person in camp and posing the same question. She almost laughed at the notion!

"The whole camp!" Oh... So she really had gone from person to person.

"Wow," Robin said slowly. "You must've really been quite worried about this. First the scouting incident and now a camp-wide survey."

"Not really," replied Lissa with a shrug. "Well, I was worried, but I just asked everyone because Chrom made me. He got mad at me for asking him if I was a good princess and ordered me to ask everyone how I could improve. Otherwise, I would never have gone up to some of those guys if it hadn't been an order. Have you seen the way they pick their teeth with their daggers?! Blech!"

Robin giggled, noting sarcastically, "It's a relief to see this has been a growing experience for you."

"It was!" Lissa protested, her pouty face Robin had mocked showing itself. "They were actually really nice people."

"Of course they were nice to you. You're Princess Lissa."

Lissa let out a small laugh, closing her eyes as a full smile spread across her cheeks. Robin was struck for a moment by how similar the girl looked to her older sister with her hair down and her eyes closed in a smile.

"Thanks, Robin."

"Did I lift your spirits?" asked Robin, to which she got a nod in reply. "Then you'll leave the scouting to our scouts from now on? And no more surveys? You'll stick to your own job? Which is...?"

"Making people in camp smile!" Lissa finished happily. "And being the 'embodiment of good spirits.'"

"Precisely." Robin let herself relax back into her chair. "I have enough strategizing to do without worrying about you going rogue."

"I was helpful as a scout though, right?" Lissa tried to defend her actions, even if only a little bit. "We knew the enemy formation like _that_!" She snapped her fingers with a proud smile on her face.

"We did," Robin admitted as she began to gather her things together from the table. The brigands they had fought hadn't stood a chance against the Shepherds that day, and the town they'd set out to destroy had been safe. In addition, they also were gifted a Physic staff by the villagers. "But it wasn't worth the risk of losing you."

Lissa's smile damped slightly as her eyes looked at the ground. "I know," she admitted quietly.

Robin, her books and papers in hand, stood up and decided that was enough for the night. Lissa had learned her lesson and heard what she came to hear. "Come," she said, extending a hand to the princess, who still remained curled up in her chair. "It's gotten late. We should turn in for the night."

"Haha! Robin, it got late hours ago!" Lissa said, accepting the hand offered to her and allowing herself to be pulled up. "What book had you so interested anyway? Probably some battle history of a fight between two boring old guys, right?"

Lissa's laugh thereafter proved she had meant it as something of a jest, a jab at the tactician's normal reading habits, but Robin only felt relief that Lissa already had her ideas formed. Trying to lie or, gods forbid, explain to her the premise of her romantic war novel wouldn't have been easy.

"Something like that..." replied Robin, heading for the door with Lissa clinging to her arm. The young girl had taken up the taper holder - now almost devoid of firelight - and guided them both through the dark tent.

"Hey, I had another question," said Lissa as she slid sideways through the tent opening, careful not to let the flame brush the cloth material. "What kind of perfume do you like?"

Robin furrowed her eyebrows, wondering why it was that Lissa was asking. Though she doubted the girl could see the curiosity on her face under the night sky. "That's awfully random... I'm not sure, honestly. I've never worn perfume."

Lissa jerked her head back, pulling her linked arm against Robin's and causing the latter to stumble a bit. "What?"

"Not to my memory, at least."

Robin and Lissa made their way to their tent in the center of camp, still arm in arm with the younger trying to explain all the benefits of a nice scent, even going so far as to suggest it would distract enemies on the battlefield. From across the way of their own sleeping quarters was the captain's tent. Chrom was drawn out of his work by the flicker of a dim candle outside and the sound of their voices outside.

Leaving his maps on the table and wiping his eyes (When had it gotten so late?), he stood and went to the flap of his tent to peek through. Outside, Lissa was speaking animatedly – and far too loudly for the hour – about... Robin's scent? _Perfume?_ No, that couldn't be. He had told Lissa to buy perfume for someone special, but he had meant to give it to _her_ as a late birthday present! Surely she didn't think he would be gifting something that intimate to his tactician... That would be crossing a line even by Lissa's standards.

Just as the two were about to enter their tent and Chrom about to return to the depths of his, having determined it was just business as usual with a few Shepherds being up so late, Lissa caught Robin's arm away from the flap of their tent. Quickly, she took the tactician into a hug, its fierceness evidenced by Robin's consequential grunt at being pulled into the young girl's grip.

"Thanks- ..gain, Robin. You're such a g-... -end," was all Chrom could make out from what Lissa said. She was speaking quietly and her voice was projecting behind Robin's shoulder. Though he realized whatever she'd said must've been something sweet when the older girl smiled and put her arm around his sister's back. She gently ruffled Lissa's blonde hair, the look on her face endearing and gentle. He felt his heart beat a little faster.

So many of the Shepherds treated Lissa like a little sister. Though somehow when he compared how Stahl or Sumia treated her – and how Lissa treated them in return – none of them seemed as genuine as what he was seeing in that moment. She never hugged the other Shepherds - besides Maribelle, nor did she actively seek their company. He was glad Lissa was taking to their army's newest addition, and he was gladder still that she would have another woman besides Emmeryn in her life who she'd look up to.

And as the two girls separated and entered their tent, Chrom realized he was glad it was Robin to whom his sister had taken a liking. She was a fierce warrior, an unwaveringly loyal friend and comrade, and exceedingly clever to boot. For all the wonderful qualities Emm had - her peacefulness and strong sense of duty among them - those were things Lissa couldn't learn from her. He hoped Robin would be a good friend and role model to his sister.

Chrom returned thereafter to his table full of maps, lists and pieces from Robin's strategy kit she'd loaned him (on the condition he 'treat it with the care you would show a newborn babe') and attempted to concentrate. Though right up until the second he managed to fall asleep with his head on the table, he just couldn't seem to focus quite as hard as before. For every wooden playing piece he moved across a map, there was a teasing voice in his head who knew a better move, and every time he thought up a new plan, an instinct arose in him to consult with the one person he was growing to rely on most.

As his eyes fluttered shut, the exhausted prince found himself wondering with a tired and vague sense of misery how Robin had managed to gain such a hold on the Shepherds after so little time. He really didn't know what he did with himself before she came along.


	6. Agh! Won goph in mah mouph! Blech! Ptooey!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Discovered a hidden link between supports today. Peeping tom seems to be the new hottest trend among the male Shepherds.
> 
> Also, the shepherds seem to cause a lot of shenanigans in their supports, don't they?

**Agh! Won goph in my mouph! Blech! Ptooey!**

* * *

 

"I didn't do anythiiiiiiing!"

A distressed scream echoed across the camp, tearing Chrom's eyes up and away from the maps before him. Squinting out the walls of his tent, he wondered just who could be causing such a ruckus so early in the morning.

Based on past events in his camp, he didn't have a good feeling about this. Gods only knew what had happened this time... 

Abandoning his maps (just as well, for he'd need Robin's clearance on the final plan anyway), he slipped through the flap of his tent into the cool morning air and examined the camp around him. Here or there a few soldiers seemed to have looked up in response to the scream from before, but disinterestedly went about their business, preparing for training or getting breakfast. No one was injured or covered in the remnants of a food fight... The canvas rows of tents stood prim and proper, nothing on fire or collapsing... 

Chrom felt the panic in his heart settle a little. Alright... Nothing seemed amiss. He'd not have to give a lecture to anyone about things he never thought he'd have to address. Okay! Everything was-

But then, so faintly came the sound of barreling hooves on the breeze. From the sound of it, they were getting ever closer to camp.

He'd spoken too soon.

_Oh gods._

A yell or two followed the sound of an angry whinny. One voice's owner sounded to be the source of the initial scream that had drawn Chrom from his tent.

 _Please don't let this be one of my Shepherds. Just_ once,  _please let it not be one of my Shepherds._

And it wasn't one. It was two. Robin and Vaike came barreling around the corner of the path between the tents, panting and practically tripping over their own feet as they passed by Chrom.

"Go, go!" shouted Vaike, urging Robin forward as he sneaked a frightened glance over his shoulder.

Before Chrom had the chance to demand to know what was going on, he got his answer. The sound of hooves got louder from around the corner, and a horse came charging around it, its eyes ablaze and sights set on Robin and Vaike. 

Chrom let out a yell as the horse charged straight by him, and he jumped back to avoid its wrath. Blazes, but something had it worked up! 

Instinctively, Chrom's feet began to move, chasing after the horse and his endangered friends. It didn't take him long behind the devil steed to recognize the dark brown coat and mane - this horse was Sully's! He hated to think what had happened to her that her horse was out running freely on an uncontrolled rampage such as this.

In the chaotic run for safety, Robin took a rather nasty spill near some of the other soldiers (all of whom were huddling back in shock and fear) and landed straight in a patch of mud.

"Ugh!" the girl groaned, halfway in frustration and halfway in pain. Her cries, however, very quickly turned into ones of disgust as she tried to stand and found there was more than just mud on her face. "Eek! There's ants! Agh! Won goph in my mouph! Blech! Ptooey!" 

A moment of panic passed through Chrom as she slipped again and again in her attempts to stand. He ran faster towards her when he realized she could very well be trampled. Sully's horse halted and reared before her, to which she replied with a yell of fear and a swift roll out of the way. Vaike made it to her side to help her stand as Chrom leaped in front of them both.

In danger's way, Chrom stood between his friends and the horse, throwing his arms up in an attempt to calm it. That only seemed to make it angrier! It slammed its hooves back to the ground, only missing Chrom by a hair. He felt Robin and Vaike each take hold of one of his arms, pulling him back as they all three let out small cries of fear. 

Fury blazed in the eyes of the steed. 

Chrom vaguely wondered within the panic if other generals had to deal with problems like these as well... Somehow he doubted it.

* * *

 

It took frantically calling for Sumia and a great deal of trouble on her end to settle the horse back down. Chrom's glance switched every second or two between a confused glare at the two troublemakers gasping for breath behind him and worried looks at Sumia in concern for her safety. He'd never seen Sully's horse behave so aggressively!

Once the perpetrating beast had been lead back to the stables, Chrom sincerely thanked Sumia for her help and turned his attention to his two out-of-breath Shepherds. Robin had grass and mud stains from her fall all over the front of her clothing, and Vaike's metal armor around his neck was twisted sideways.

Quiet sternness (and a bit of anger) in his voice, Chrom asked, "What in Naga's name did you two _do_ to Sully's horse to get it in such a state?"

" _I_ didn't do anything!" Robin protested indignantly, her voice quieter than usual as she calmed herself down and caught her breath. Her eyes widened and a scowl began to form on her face as she turned and pointed at Vaike. "It was  _you!"_

"Hey!" Vaike shot back. "I ain't the one who went and caught the damn thing's attention, now am I?"

"You _were_ the one who was peeping on its owner!" Robin countered, her voice rising clear to a yell. 

Vaike took a stern step towards her, his eyes flashing angrily before nervously looking around camp. "Jeez, woman! Say it a little louder why don'tcha?"

"Perhaps I should!"

Chrom's eyes followed the argument unamusedly, but at this point he stepped in.

"Enough."

Both Vaike and Robin went silent - seething rather than guilty - at the sound of their captain's voice. Shooting glares at one another, they awaited Chrom's verdict.  

"Robin," the prince began after removing his fingers from the bridge of his nose. The woman in question straightened up a bit, readying herself for the punishment to come. However, Chrom merely let out a small, slightly annoyed sigh. Her clothes and parts of her face and hair were still covered in mud.

"Give your robes to Frederick; he'll get them cleaned fastest. And go clean yourself up."

Stunned and a bit relieved, Robin replied shortly, not wishing to stay and push her luck. With a nod of understanding, she relied, “Yes."

"Vaike," Chrom continued. His voice became sterner. "Go wait in my tent."

"Aw, come on, Chrom!" The fighter's strong stance broke as he rolled his eyes in desperation, his body reacting as well. Chrom couldn't get a word in edgewise as Vaike continued trying to worm his way out of trouble (and what would be his third lecture on peeping). "You're a man, aren't ya? You get it! Sometimes a man's just gotta see what can be seen!"

The prince tried to keep his face from reddening - both from anger and embarrassment. Of course he wouldn't stoop to such lecherous activities! He wasn't the perfect prince, but he did have some measure of propriety... At the very least, he certainly wouldn't admit to something like peeping on the women in camp in front of one such woman - whose eyes were currently burning into him and awaiting his reply to Vaike. Oh no, not under that gaze would he ever admit to something like that.

"In my tent." Chrom used his deeper, sterner voice as he commanded Vaike once more. He realized in afterthought how much he hated using that voice, especially on his friends. He added on, a bit gentler this time, "Please."

The fighter begrudgingly let out a sigh and stalked off, defeated but in the end looking none too concerned. After all, this wasn't new territory. The captain wasn't looking forward to putting himself through this lecture yet again.

Now alone with Robin, Chrom hoped to apologize to her for Vaike's behavior and the trouble it landed her in. However, she spoke up before he could begin.

"I'm so sorry, Chrom," she apologized, bowing her muddied head slightly. "I had no intention of causing-"

"It's alright," the prince cut her off. Her eyes widened curiously as he explained himself. "This wasn't your fault. I'll speak to Vaike; you just get yourself cleaned up."

He thought of commenting on how improper it would be of a lady to walk through camp with mud in her hair, hearkening back to their conversation from a few days past. However, he thought it would probably do more hurt than help. She didn't seem to take quite so kindly to being called unladylike as Sully always did, and he feared to bring the topic up again.

"Also, it'd probably be best if you-"

"-used the bathing tents," Robin finished with him, nodding along in understanding. For now, the women would be best off putting in the time to preparing their own bath water rather than risk being spied on in the springs. She let out a humored scoff before waving goodbye to Chrom as she turned and made her way for the bathing tent. 

Chrom couldn't help but stare as she retreated, watching as she gathered the mud on her face with a wipe of her hand and slung it on the ground with disgust. 

 _Prim, proper, perfumed, pretty..._  Chrom let out a quiet chuckle. Had he simply waited until that moment to mention that Robin was none of those things, there's no way she would've been able to deny him!

* * *

 

Thirty minutes and one thoroughly aggravating, mildly embarrassing and ultimately bound to be fruitless reprimanding of Vaike later, Chrom found himself finally able to get back to work.

A map of southern Ylisse lay before him, two possible roads from Themis back to Ylisstol marked in red ink. They needed to get Emmeryn back to the capital as quickly as possible, but they also needed to get back safely. The road through the plains would be quickest, but the road through the hills would be safer... 

He'd have to ask Robin. Surely she'd have a preference and some sound reasoning.

Figuring she would be about finished cleaning up, he exited his tent in search of her. Through the canvas-lined 'paths' of camp he wandered, each and every corner looking more or less the same as the last.

In the past month, the Shepherds had found themselves with more money on their hands to buy themselves more tents, meaning each official Shepherd had his or her own canvas quarters, and the foot soldiers were now in pairs rather than fours. The camp had doubled in size - double the area and double the faceless tents. It didn't help, either, that due to the varying terrain on which the Shepherds always found themselves camping, the camp had to be set up radically differently each time. Just when he got a feel for his surroundings, they were packed up and moving again...

He managed to locate and check the healers' tent first, thinking Robin had perhaps sought a healer after getting cleaned up. She hadn't. Then the storage tent where he remembered she'd wanted to take inventory that day. Empty. He even saw Frederick holding Robin's cloak and camisole and bringing them to the wash, though the knight knew not where she was either. Finally, he decided to check her tent on the far eastern part of the camp. Though only when he'd reached the eastern end did he realize he didn't know exactly which tent was hers...

Second on the right perhaps? No, that was Stahl's. Or Sumia's, perhaps. The last on the right? Or was it on the left?

From the left side, he could see mist a light shade of white pouring through the edges. He thought for sure that he'd found Robin's tent, being used to seeing strange colors from spellcasting gone out of hand coming from her area.

Approaching the tent and tapping his hand on the flap, Chrom called within.

"Hey, Robin?" No answer. "Robin! Are you in here? HELLO?! I have a question about our next move!"

From within, Chrom could hear someone shout back at him. It was definitely Robin's voice, but why couldn't he make out a damn thing she was saying?

"I-is tha--? I--... ai-... -ome-!"

"What? Come on in?" he asked for clarification, carefully slipping his hand through the door and entering slowly, giving her the chance tell him to leave again before he entered completely. He heard nothing in response, and took that to mean he was all clear to enter. Though when he ducked in, it was as if his face had been hit by a wall of humidity, steam fogging up his vision.

"Gods, why is it so steamy in here? Did someone leave -"

His wondering aloud was interrupted by a scream from somewhere within the endless mass of steam. Vaguely, he could make out two large pigtails and the shape of Robin's head. Why had she screamed? Was there another bug on her?

"Ah, there you are!" said Chrom, batting at the air in front of him in an attempt to clear up his vision. Whatever spell she'd attempted sure had gone wrong, and it smelled like some sort of flower or fruit to boot. Not her best work, clearly... "I can hardly see a thing through all this blasted steam... Anyway, I wanted to consult with you on tomorrow's march. You see..."

Now his vision was clearing. It was clearing, and a strange feeling in his stomach began to tell him he may have entered the wrong tent after all.

"Er... Is there any special reason why you're not wearing any clothing?"

"Chrom?" Robin's voice was seething and her words began being spoken through clenched teeth under eyes reminiscent of Sully's furious horse. With such a scary expression, the prince found it hard to focus on her face. Though to focus on any other part of her... Not an option. "Rather than stand there like a slack-jawed village idiot..."

He hadn't realized his mouth was slightly agape. Whether in shock, embarrassment, worry or... well, he didn't know.

"PERHAPS YOU COULD WAIT OUTSIDE LIKE I ASKED?!"

Chrom stammered, words utterly failing to reach his mouth as his brain stopped operating. "But, I... You..."

And then everything rushed over him at once. So _that_ was what she'd said when he'd knocked before! As if by magic, his brain suddenly kicked back into overdrive, now overwhelming him with too many thoughts and words.

"Oh gods, I'm SO sorry! I didn't mean to-"

… see you naked.

"That is to say-"

"OOOOOOOOOOUT!" She almost definitely would've been pointing an angry finger at the door if her hands weren't both busy covering things.

"R- Right! Absolutely!" Chrom ducked his head to the side, pointedly avoiding the sight of his tactician as he practically felt the blood rushing to his face. Once or twice, he instinctively tried to look up as he addressed her, but each time he forced his eyes back down. "Straightaway! I'll, er, wait... out-...side the tent."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd left any place with such haste. And once he was finally outside, he didn't quite know how to continue. Should he wait outside or go wait somewhere else? Should he sit? Or would standing be better? Whatever seemed less awkward and preferably made it clearer that he really hadn't meant to walk in on her... Naked... Free of clothing... 

The flowery smell of soap seeped out of the bathing tent and reached his nose. 

 _Perfumed..._ Well, if there was any doubt of her being a lady, he had seen all the evidence he needed.

_Sometimes a man's just gotta see what can be seen!_

Following the first natural reaction that came to him upon letting that thought enter his mind, he buried his face in his hands, pressing his thumbs to his temples.

 _Oh gods,_ he thought miserably. _I'm Vaike._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Chrom.


	7. You may call me Marth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That scene where Chrom's "Duelling with unpleasant thoughts" is technically the first time Lucina sees her parents alone again, without all the noise and bustle of, you know, a hellscape filled with Risen or an arena filled with (probably wildly drunk) Feroxi.

**You may call me Marth**

* * *

 

Lucina had seen them together in the Ferox arena. She had crossed swords with her father, been blindsided and hit by a lightning strike from her mother. But that time had been so much different, so much faster-paced. There, they'd been her opponents on a battlefield. There, they'd been surrounded by allies and a crowd of a thousand cheering Feroxi. There, they had been Captain Chrom and the tactician Robin.

Here, in the courtyard of the Ylissean palace, things had slowed down. Now, under the dark of the night sky... they were her parents again.

She felt her hands cling tighter to the bark of the tree she'd hidden herself behind. Her brain told her better - she was here on a mission, she couldn't forget. But just to close her eyes for the shortest minute and hear her father's voice as she remembered it - so full and calm, to hear her mother's warm "hmm's" as she listened to him... It made her heart ache, and yet at the same time it soared. 

Not a minute prior she'd almost gone to confront her father as he’d stood alone, staring at the sky and looking so terribly forlorn. However, she couldn't have been gladder to have waited, for seeing her mother appear and take that place at his side was well worth it. 

She knew they weren't married yet. She knew they probably had no idea they ever _would_ be married. But Lucina knew, and she intended to enjoy every minute of drinking in that knowledge. Their lives would be happy, different from what they were and how they ended in Lucina's time. If all went well tonight, they wouldn't wind up with the burdens of a king and queen on their shoulders, the war that so often took them away from home would be averted...

But... Looking at them she saw a glimpse of the trust and love between them that she came to know as she grew up, and she hoped that with everything in the future she was aiming to change, perhaps that one bit could remain the same. 

"...Ylisse's spirit... -gave' her..." Lucina could barely make out what her father was saying from so far away. She would've loved to moved closer, but there were no other hiding places to be found. She couldn't risk revealing herself. Especially, she remembered, when there was an assassin lurking in the bushes not 15 meters away. She had to refocus herself.

Rather than concentrating on her father's words, she decided to listen to the hooting of an owl that was filling the air. She couldn't see its source, but filling her ears with background noise helped her better focus her eyes. When that assassin jumped out, she would be ready. She braced her sword in her hand and prepared her stance to break into a run at the first sight of him.

_"I'm gonna get you!"_

With a jolt and a pinch in her stomach, an echo of her past flitted through her mind. Though only lasting a moment, it was enough for her to look across the courtyard, right near the pale, stone arches and almost see her brother running before her eyes. She could remember the feeling of her toy sword in her hand, the lack of breath in her lungs from running and laughing too hard, the smile on her little brother's face...

No. She couldn't let herself slip into that state of mind now. She needed to focus. She steeled her grip on Falchion, the familiar feeling of the ribbed handle settling her down as she rested her left hand on the bark of the tree once more.

 _"Morgan, look what you did! You scarred the tree with your sword!"_ Quickly, Lucina removed her hand from the trunk, once again trying desperately to shut her mind against the distractions. Or rather, against the pain of remembering.

Being home, being in this courtyard... it was almost too much for her. She realized she wouldn't be able to stop these involuntary recollections no matter how hard she steeled herself. A pang of... regret? Nostalgia? Grief? hit her in the stomach just before her feet went cold.

A rustle had come from the bushes.

No, she couldn't just stand there. For the sake of her sanity and her father's safety, she'd have to move closer to him. She left the tree and carefully, quietly made her way forward, trying to hear what was being said between her parents.

"The day he understands peace will be the day death gives it to him," said her father, his voice heavy with an unreadable emotion. Lucina realized he'd been talking about the Mad King, and she understood the dark tone in his words. "So perhaps I must be death's agent. Emmeryn would never order him killed, nor would I wish her to."

Lucina was close enough now to see a sympathetic look appear on her mother's face. She could just barely make it out under her hood amidst pale white hair.

Gathering up her courage, Lucina braced herself and took up a normal stride. With a deep breath, she cleared her mind and spoke her first words of the night.

"Well spoken, sir."

Both her mother and father turned to face her head on, the weight of their eyes hitting her like stones. Gray-blue and deep brown reflected the firelight from within the castle back at her, and she found it near impossible to meet their gazes. 

Seeing them was harder than she'd expected. In that hellscape those few weeks ago, when she'd first arrived in this time, she'd been under the gaze of not only her parents, but Aunt Lissa, Frederick, Sully, and Duke Virion as well. It was overwhelming enough not to drown in memories. Now, it was just Chrom and Robin. Just her family.

She felt her eyes begin to string as she clenched her jaw against its quivering. It took everything in her not to run into their arms and tell them everything. Just to feel their hands stroke her hair again, just to be a family again, after all this time...

"Marth?"

And that one word was enough. Enough to send her wishing to a screeching halt, to remind her where she was and why.

She was here to save the world, and she was here under an alias.

" _You may call me Marth."_ Speaking those words for the first time had burned her tongue. It was true she was honored and empowered by taking on the name of the Hero King, but it wasn't her name. She hadn't worn it with pride as she grew up, as she ruled as Exalt. Her mother hadn't chosen that name for her, her father hadn't called her to training with it, her brother hadn't whined it when he'd wanted to spend more time with her. It wasn't her name.

But if she was to carry out this mission, it had to be. If she was to rid the Lucina of this world of the hellish future she herself had endured, if she was to save her parents and ensure that she and her brother and all their friends of this world would grow up happy, then Marth would have to carry it out. Marth was who she'd need to become.

But just once, she thought, it would be nice to see her father greet her with that warm smile of his, extending one of his strong arms around her shoulders. To smell the essence of parchment on her mother's coat as she was hugged and felt a kiss placed on her cheek, just like when she was little... They both were right there in front of her. She was so close...

"Good evening to you."

And yet further from them than she'd ever been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Lucina: Masks are good for that. The moment I saw you and father, it was all I could do not to leap into your arms. That, or break down in tears at having seen you alive again after so many years." Best line DLC has ever gven us imo
> 
> ~ I'm still getting used to Ao3 so if I'm doing wonky crap with formatting and all that I'm sorry T.T ~


	8. Let's see what I'm capable of now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the sudden wave of pegasus knights (that, let's all admit we have at some point) finds its start.

 

**Let's see what I'm capable of now**

* * *

 

"Robin, come out!"

"Yeah! Let us see your new look!"

Robin stood in her dressing room, fastening the last bits of her armor on her shoulders as some of the other female Shepherds waited on her. This uniform was certainly tighter than her old cloak and tunic, and much more revealing as well. She couldn't say she was particularly pleased about that.

However, her change in position was something she had been looking forward to. A change of pace never hurt anyone! She was simply glad Chrom had agreed to let her take up pegasus riding in the first place, for this new challenge would be helping to fill a gap much in need of filling...

\---

The Pegasus Knights had fallen.

All but the knights in the small, scattered outposts and the precious few elites under Phila's direct command at the royal palace had been slaughtered at the border by Gangrel and his wyvern riders. Cordelia was in a state of grief at the loss of her sisters, and had for the past week along the march to Regna Ferox visibly been feeling out of place. She did her duties as asked, but it was clear to anyone that she didn't feel right being there. Marching along the ground was a far cry from a fly through the sky along side fellow pegasus sisters.

This, Robin had taken note of as they made camp a few nights ago just before the Feroxi border. And she'd decided to take action.

 

"Chrom, may I come in? I wanted to talk to you about something," she'd begun as she’d slipped into Chrom's tent. It had gotten quite cold and dark outside, and she seemed to be less physically equipped to handle the cold than the others. The warmth and glow of the firelight from within the captain's tent was a welcome change.

"Ah, Robin!" Chrom looked up briefly from his spot on the ground with a tired smile, seated at his low table and mapping routes. Underneath his eyes, dark circles were starting to grow.

The tactician had wished there was something she could do to relieve him of a bit of his stress, though she knew the greatest deal of it was coming from the absence and endangerment of his older sister. Regrettably, the only thing Robin could do to help was send extra forces back to help guard Ylisstol.

"Come on in."

Robin had entered the tent fully, pulling the edges of her cloak around herself and shivering as she made her way to the table.

"There's an extra blanket on my bedroll if you'd like," Chrom had told her before she’d sat down. He gestured quickly with his quill to the other side of the room where his blankets and pillows lay. One plush fur pelt lay on top, evidently hers for the taking. "I know how you hate the Feroxi weather."

Chrom had shot Robin a small smile, which she'd returned before snatching the dark brown fur and wrapping it tightly around her shoulders. The shelter it had provided against the freezing temperatures felt like a massive hug.

"Mmm, that's better." She'd sighed contentedly and wiggled as she pulled the blanket even tighter around herself. When she’d noticed a bit of pink creep onto the prince's cheeks, she suddenly wished she'd made fewer noises, and she felt very thankful for the extra layer around her body - a rather vague sentiment with which she'd become very familiar since their incidents in the bathing tents.

"So," Chrom had then sighed, finally setting down his scribbling quill and devoting his attention to her. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

In spite of the fact she'd thought through her plan quite thoroughly, Robin was a bit nervous to pitch the idea she'd been cooking up. Somehow she’d known Chrom wouldn't be too pleased with it.

"Well," she’d begun slowly, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "It's actually about Cordelia."

"Cordelia?" asked Chrom, his face confused. "What about her?"

With a sigh, Robin began her pitch. Backstory first: "She's not doing well, Chrom. I mean, who's to blame her after all she's been through? It's just... I don't know what to do with her! I've tried pairing her up with Sumia, to give her something, some _one_ familiar, but..."

With as talented as Cordelia was and as timid as Sumia tended to be, it was becoming far too easy for the former to exercise her tendency to take over control, leaving the latter in a backup position. Sure this was safe, but Robin worried for Sumia's development as a soldier.

"Sumia needs to be in a leading position right now," Robin had clarified. "She needs to be getting the experience, and it's been all too easy for Cordelia to take the lead in their teamwork and drown her out."

"So, why not pair her up with someone else?" Chrom had asked, not as a suggestion but as a legitimate question.

"I would," answered Robin, still self assured in her reasoning. "But Sumia's the only other flier who can fly with Cordelia. Ricken and Lissa are the only two small enough to be – feasibly – carried on the back of a pegasus saddle to ride with them and make two new pair ups. You requested Lissa stay with either Frederick or myself, and Ricken has really taken to Miriel. It's rather adorable, really, him running around as her little science assistant! Plus, they work so well together with magic, I'd be a fool to break that up."

"What do you propose then?"

With a deep breath, Robin had readied herself. Here came the meat of her new idea. She'd had to be ready to speak fast, because the second Chrom got an inch, she had a feeling he'd begin his list of reasons for saying no...

"I was thinking I could begin training as a pegasus knight and be her partner."

Following plan, she didn't give the prince enough time to yell 'What?!' (though his mouth had already begun to form the word).

"Now, hear me out," she’d begun, removing her hands from the blanket and holding them up in a gesture to calm him down. She'd been prepared for this, and she liked to think she knew him well enough to know what his concerns would be. "I would still be a tactician for the army, I just wouldn't be fighting with swords anymore. Tomes would have to wait a while as well."

"But-" Chrom had tried to interrupt, but he was very quickly cut short.

"I've considered the increased vulnerability to arrows and such," Robin continued, intentionally ignoring the urgency growing in Chrom's eyes as he tried to get a word in edgewise. "But I've already gotten so much stronger since joining the Shepherds, wouldn't you agree? Frederick says I'm one of the most capable in the army of defending myself right now!"

"Well, yes, bu-"

"And honestly, Chrom, if you think a wind spell is going to leave even a scratch on me..."

" _Robin!_ You-"

"And I _really do_ think this is best for Cordelia, Chrom."

Robin looked the prince hard in the eyes, silently beseeching him to argue no further, to understand where she was coming from. She’d continued.

"You all were so good to me when I first joined you, and I want Cordelia to feel the same sense of camaraderie that I did. That I still do. I want her to feel at home here, and I really think having someone to fly with will make her transition easier and give her some normalcy, even if only a little bit. So please, Chrom?"

Chrom had stared the tactician down long and hard, his blue eyes conflicted. Pegasus knights were some of the easiest targets in an army, and not for lack of personal defense or resistance to magic. No matter how good any knight was herself, her pegasus and _its_ weakness to magic and arrows - rather than the rider's - were the real danger. He didn't like the idea of Robin being so at risk. The thought alone had made his stomach hurt. If anything were to happen to her, he and the Shepherds would be at a total loss.

But when he’d seen the look of sincerity in Robin's eyes, when he’s thought about her arguments... She really did want to help, and gods damn her she’d made good points. She never failed to do that. And it was true that she was strong and talented; he’d known if anyone could manage such a radical change, it would be her. Of that much, he’d been certain, but that didn't mean he had to be comfortable with it.

"For how long would this class change be?" he’d asked begrudgingly, his eyebrows lowered and his mouth in a serious frown.

Robin's eyes had sparked slightly, realizing she had him on the ropes.

"Not for long. Just until we manage to build the core of the pegasus knights back up and get Cordelia back on her feet," she’d answered, trying to keep her voice calm and cool. "If I'm being honest, I read up in the palace library back in Ylisstol on an elite flying class some time ago: tome wielders flying on pegasi! I'd like to take a bit of time to try that out once I become good enough. Of course I'll learn to wield a lance to start with, but after some time, I thought I may switch over to tomes again."

Chrom had waited a moment, thinking over her points. The path she was wanting to take would be months, maybe even years! Becoming an elite flier? Even prodigious Cordelia wouldn't be able to accomplish that in 'not long'.

With a disgruntled sigh, his hand brushing the bridge of his nose before gesturing emphatically near his temple, Chrom had replied, "I'm just not fond of the idea of one of the most important people in our army putting herself in one of the most vulnerable positions the battlefield has to offer!"

"I know you aren't," replied Robin honestly, taking care not to shrink back as his irritation began to show. She’d had no reason to, after all, for she had an answer already prepared. "But Chrom, there have been thousands of legendary pegasus knights before me who've lived long and happy lives. Clair of Zofia, Marcia of Begnion, Hinoka of Hoshido... Even your ancestor Caeda was a pegasus knight! They all were safe."

There was a reason the pegasus knights had such a rich history across the millennia; though they often times played the damsels in distress, their will, their technique, their spirit kept them alive and fighting. It was these very things that had made Robin so intent on rebuilding their forces. 

"And there will surely be hundreds, _thousands_ , more in the years to come. Who's to say I can't take my place among them for a short period of time, hm?"

Chrom had brought his eyes to meet hers, staring her down rather analytically. She’d met his gaze in equal measure, each waiting to see if the other would back down. Before long, the prince had sighed, some of the strength leaving his posture.

"I can't believe you'd use my own ancestry against me," he’d conceded with a lighthearted scoff, a slight smile twinged with defeat accompanying it. "You've really done your research, haven't you?"

"Did you expect any less from me?" Robin had asked with a gentle, teasing smirk. Though it quickly faded away as she’d turned thoughtful and sincere once more. "You know our deal, Chrom: I won't make any radical changes to the Shepherds without your okay, class changes included. You're still the commander here."

Though they often played the part of equals, Chrom still outranked her in many ways, one of which being that he was still the captain and she the tactician. He still had the final say in any major decisions.

However, she liked to think she knew by now how to sway him and get past his stubbornness. In this sense, he and his younger sister were much the same: With a gentle enough mixture of sternness, kindness, and good reasoning...

"You have my permission to do whatever you see fit, Robin."

A smile had spread across the tactician's face, happiness mixing with pride and excitement. She had managed to get Chrom's approval! Just to think of all the exciting new changes she had coming...

"Thank you, Chrom," she’d said, beaming ear to ear as her eyes shone with the glow of new ideas and hope. "You won't regret this; I promise."

Chrom couldn't help but return her smile in full, even if he had still had a seed of worry growing in his gut.

"I know I won't," he’d replied. "Gods know your craziest schemes usually turn out to be your best ones."

\---

Which brought them to the present day, to Robin in the dressing room.

The preparations for the slight reorganizing of the army were made within only two days. Robin had arranged for Sumia to be backed up by Chrom, Lissa guarded by Frederick, and herself paired up with Cordelia. A pegasus was purchased from a stable just on the Feroxi border as was riding gear, and by the end of those two days' time...

"Wow, Robin! You look so cool!" Lissa stared in wonder as Robin finally emerged from behind the curtain she'd been preparing behind.

The tactician had donned her new blue armor, thigh length boots and thin leather tights and garters. She stretched her limbs this way and that, trying to get a feel for her new clothing, leaving the female Shepherds around her to admire her new look.

"Who knew under that sinfully androgynous coat there lay the form of a lady?" asked Maribelle, leaving Robin unsure if she was being condescending or attempting to tease.

She smiled ironically, choosing to believe the latter.

The tactician muttered a few 'thank you's for the compliments before calling outside to Sumia, requesting her pegasus be fetched. Grabbing a bronze lance from a stand on the wall with purpose and self-assurance, she made her way to the flap of the tent, where Frederick awaited her outside.

"So, Frederick," Robin began, pride in her voice as she clutched her lance in her hands, straightened her back and held her chin high, showing off her new armor. "How do I look? Like a terrifying knight of the skies?"

"Like a trainee who shouldn't be using a weapon yet," the knight replied with dark humor. To Robin's disappointment, he reached out and took the bronze weapon straight from her hands. She was only excited to begin as soon as possible, but Frederick wouldn't have it. "You should first focus on learning to ride. It will do you no good to bite off more than you can chew."

From ahead of them, Sumia began approaching from the makeshift stables the Shepherds had made in a field. Behind her, the other members of the army, captain included, were watching the situation play out from afar. Robin, a leader of the Shepherds known by her thunder spells and impressive use with a sword, suddenly becoming a flying lance fighter was quite big news.

Robin shot one last withering, disappointed look at Frederick in an attempt to guilt him into giving her lance back (before remembering the man was immune to such tactics) as Sumia approached them, holding the reigns of a pegasus who was in tow. In a split second decision, she decided to snatch the weapon back out of the knight's hands.

"I can handle it, Frederick," she told him firmly as she pulled it further away from his hands that groped after it, leaving him no time to argue as Sumia arrived.

As Sumia lead the pegasus to Robin's side, she warned gently, "Careful now. This one's a bit strong-willed." She pet the beast's nuzzle nonetheless, keeping it calm for its owner.

"Hm, a personality to match its owner’s," Frederick commented with a dry smile as Robin approached her new partner in battle.

She glanced over her shoulder as she planted her foot in the saddle's stirrup. "Thank you, Frederick. That'll be enough out of you."

The only sign of acknowledgment she received was that damned thinning of his eyes accompanied by a slight lifting of the corners of his mouth. She still doubted there was a Shepherd in camp who hadn't grown to dread that utterly disarming smile. 

Pulling herself into the saddle with moderate difficulty, Robin was surprised to feel a complete lack of nervousness. Rather, she felt curiously confident, and with a few adjustments per Frederick and Sumia's suggestions, she felt almost comfortable. It was a different stance from horseback riding; she had to sit further up on the neck to avoid the wings, keep her back at a different angle...

Her pegasus grew antsy at its new rider, stamping its feet here and there and shaking its head. Robin was a bit startled, but managed to jerk the reigns in such a way as to calm him down. She could feel everyone's eyes watching her, particularly Chrom's. There was no way she'd allow herself to be proven wrong, proven that this had been a daft idea, and if she had any say in it she wouldn't be. She'd show that captain this was no “crazy scheme”, but it would still turn out to be a good move...

"You look pretty good for a first-timer, Robin!" Sumia commented. "Have you ever ridden a pegasus before?"

The question itched something in the back of Robin's mind, a thought she'd not considered and yet felt she should have.

"No, I've only ever ridden horses," she answered honestly, as far as she knew. Though she'd long ago surrendered herself to the idea that she may have done many things in her life pre-amnesia that she didn't remember anymore. Being in a big city, studying formally, killing a man... Riding a pegasus could easily be added to the list.

"But this is a different game entirely, hm, Pegasus?" she continued, brushing her own thoughts out of her head as she gave the white fur of her steed's neck an affectionate rub with her free hand. It bucked its head and ruffled the wings of its feathers under her slightly in response. "Yes, it is! Let's see what I'm capable of now, shall we? Now that I have a trusty friend like you, hm? Is this a boy or a girl, Sumia? A girl? Hmm... Catria. Yes, that's a good name for you, isn't it?"

"Catria?"

"Yes, Catria – after the middle Whitewing. Princess Minerva’s greatest Pegasus Knights? Didn't you read that History of the Pegasi book I gave you?"

"Oh, o- of course!"

Ignoring Sumia's clear fib with only a knowing smile, Robin set out with her Catria on a small trot around the camp, even – to her joy – meeting up with Cordelia and her pegasus as she passed by the open training grounds. From the experienced flyer, she received her first round of riding and lance fighting lessons.

As she made an effort to work as a team with Catria, who did prove to be quite headstrong as Sumia had said, she made the umpteeth executive decision about her personality, regardless of her past: She didn't mind having an animal by her side. In fact, she quite liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude I wrote this chapter before Echoes was even announced, before I knew who Clair of Zofia and Catria really were, and as I was reading through this I started freaking out at my own references cause I finally get them XD Sad, I know, but it made me so happy :')


	9. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very quick pre-battle thingy before stuff gets more serious and whatnot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't be the only person who still laughs at the word duty (and is way too old to be laughing at the word duty)

**Duty**

* * *

The second Frederick had informed them of trouble ahead, Chrom and Robin had known to spring into action. Whether it was based on common sense or a pure instinct from weeks of practice, no one knew. Whatever it was, though, that had driven them to this skirmish, the Shepherds cursed it.

By the time they had managed to trudge forward to the scene, which at the beginning had looked so close to them – a cruel trick played by the desert sun and the flat land, they found their clothing and armor covered and scratchy with sand. The air was full of it, seeming almost as bountiful as the very oxygen they breathed.

"Robin, are you sure we should be meddling here?" came a voice from behind the tactician. Through the desert wind, she could barely make out the words, let alone the owner. "We need to be heading for Plegia without distractions! This isn't our battle to fight!"

Before Robin had a chance to answer, a scream from ahead drew her attention away.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Her stomach sank as she saw a young girl cowering before robed and armed figures in front of her. A mercenary was chasing her from behind. The poor thing couldn't have been older than Lissa, and her clothing left almost no part of her covered or protected.

Chrom answered the question for her, reaching her clearly as he stood beside her pegasus. "Of course it's our battle to fight. That girl needs our help!"

Robin spoke up as well, remembering how Chrom had cited the lack of Plegian resistance only moments before. "We've seen too little from Gangrel," she said, trying to be heard over the winds without screaming their plans straight to the enemy. "This could be a trap, but it's best we fight our way through it while we still have a chance."

Lissa appeared on the ground beside Robin, near Catria's legs. "But Robin," she complained. "We can barely even see! Or move!"

"Frederick said the mages and fliers will be able to make it through without problems. Everyone listen up!" Robin pulled the reigns of her mount to the right and turned herself around to face the army. Yelling over the wind, she gave her commands to a dozen expectant soldiers. "Forget your usual partners you've been assigned to fight with. I want everyone paired up with a flier or a mage! Lissa, you'll come with me. Ricken, give one of those wind tomes to Mirel. You two, split up and use that wind magic to help clear the air in front of you and move forward. Cordelia! Can your pegasus handle taking Stahl in your saddle? Good. You two will fly up above the sand with me."

Another shriek came from the young girl under attack, carried through the wind to the ears of the Shepherds. The mercenary was yelling behind her.

"Sumia," Robin addressed the pegasus knight. The young woman stiffened at attention, a look on her face saying she was ready to receive orders. Robin was glad to see what a far cry she was becoming from the timid mess she'd been prior to their first mission to Ferox. "Take Chrom ahead and protect that girl. And Chrom, find out who that mercenary is! He doesn't seem to belong to the other men. Can you two do that?"

"Yes," Sumia answered confidently.

"Of course," replied Chrom.

"Wonderful." Robin turned Catria back around and lifted a hand down to Lissa at her side. She almost couldn't see the girl's pale hand reach back as strands of her white hair covered her face, windblown and barely staying secured in their twin pigtails. Blindly, she pulled Lissa up into her saddle as the bustling of the army getting into formation could be heard behind her. Sumia's pegasus trotted up beside the tactician, Chrom sitting behind the owner.

"Be safe," Chrom warned sternly. Robin turned her head to face him, met with serious eyes. Though his eyes flitted away almost imperceptibly before he continued. "We'll need you when we reach the capital."

Robin wasn't quite sure what about that statement had rubbed her the wrong way. But a slight feeling of anger rose in her at... perhaps the implication she was needed  _only_  for the mission in Plegia. Was she important for nothing else? However, instinct told her to brush it off; she had no time to worry about such a small issue. Not before battle. Even if it meant leaving unspoken words for Chrom resting on the tip of her tongue.

"I will be," she assured him. She clutched Catria's reigns harder in her hands.

"And Lissa," the prince continued. "Watch out for the wounded?"

"Of course!"

Robin was growing impatient and waiting to get started, waiting to get up in the air. There was a strange sense of clear-headedness she seemed to get right at the beginning of a battle. A moment where she saw the untouched battlefield and all the opportunities within it, everything turning into a history waiting to be written, a blank canvas waiting to be painted. The only morbid part was it was waiting to be painted red.

"Chrom, you give the word," she said, her voice steeled as she braced herself to launch her pegasus into the air.

Chrom nodded, drawing Falchion from its sheath and holding it aloft.

"Shepherds, TO ARMS!"


	10. Such bonds are the true strength of this army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One Where Robin and Chrom Have a Relationship That Develops out of Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took over a month to publish. It's the first one since the very beginning that I basically totally rewrote, so it took a bit longer. :3

**Such Bonds Are the True Strength of This Army**

* * *

 

Robin's head... It was beginning to throb, spin and ache under the stress of the past day. The march to Ferox that morning, the battle at the Plegian border that afternoon... No one could say it hadn't been a stressful day.

She now found herself in the strategy tent, surrounded by maps and lists and outlines. Hardly an inch of the table in front of her was visible underneath all of the parchment. Chrom stood by her side, visibly as exhausted as his tactician was after five straight hours of planning the attack on the Plegian capital. Basilio and Flavia had long since retired to bed, as had Frederick, all of them having left once even the candlelight couldn't properly illuminate anything anymore.  But Chrom and Robin remained awake some two hours longer and counting, lighting new candles and powering through their fatigue.

Somehow it felt to Robin as though it couldn't possibly be night yet, though the ache in her muscles strongly disagreed. The whole day had flashed before her eyes yet dragged on for an eternity, making sure to leave a headache and a kink in her neck to remember it all by.

Through tired lips and with a glance at the purple shadows under Chrom's eyes, she decided it best to call it a night.

"I think we've planned as much as we can, Chrom." She let her eyes gaze once more over all of the notes and maps and figurines they'd lain out, ink running in organized chaos all over every piece of parchment and flooding her eyes with black over white. There were still more final touch-ups she could do, but she could do that alone. Chrom needed his sleep. If anyone needed to be fit for the day to come, it was the commander. And the brother of the woman whose life was on the line. "You need to go to sleep. You'll need your strength for tomorrow."

The prince nodded by her side, but his expression seemed to register nothing. Solemn and serious, his face remained unchanged as he spoke. "We both will," he said, eyes still focused on a sketch of the Plegain castle courtyard.

Robin reminded herself of the stress he was under: he carried all the burdens she did, their weight twofold on his shoulders. A failure of Robin's strategies would count as a disgrace for the Shepherds. A failure of Chrom's Shepherds would count as _his_ disgrace to the halidom. An error in Robin's judgement could cost the life of the exalt; an error in Chrom's could cost the life of a sister and a leader both. The day to follow could leave Chrom on the throne if things went wrong - a position it was clear to see he did not want.

It was no wonder he was pushing himself so hard. 

All the more reason, thought Robin, to make sure their strategy would be led out perfectly. But that would have to wait for the next morning, when the soldiers who would do the carrying out had awoken.

"The plan should work without a hitch," Robin lightly assured the captain. Her eyes glanced up to gauge his reaction, which remained unshockingly muted. "As long as we're quick, everything should work out just fine."

Chrom's brow knit tighter. His eyes still ran back and forth across the plans, trying to find any holes or flaws that he could. He knew as well as Robin that they could scarcely afford to make mistakes.

Cautiously he asked, "And we're sure the pegasus knights are the best ones to carry out the final blow?" 

"Absolutely," Robin replied. There was no way the Plegian sorcerers would reach the pegasi in the air, and she'd be sure to have any archers on the ground or wyverns in the air taken out before they signaled Phila.

From the strategy board lain before her, Robin plucked up a wooden figurine from the sidelines. The crude design of wings on its sides marked it as a pegasus unit, so small and light in her hand considering the weight it held in battle. An entire brigade, life and death all symbolized in one wooden piece, in one strategy...

She swooped the wooden figure closer to the board, nearing in on the enemy general.

"From above," Robin began. She pushed the general away with one hit from the pegasus figurine. A few hits from their pegasus knights and the Plegians would fall in their own courtyard, leaving the exalt to be whisked away to safety in the commotion. "The wicked shall receive their just reward." 

The general figure stayed where he lay, the pegasus still in her hand. One flier would save the Exalt, the rest would end this nonsense war alongside the Shepherds. Surely it would work... Her brain had a good feeling about their meticulously developed strategy as she took in the plans once more, but her gut still felt twisted into a ball of worry.

However, when a small laugh and a ghost of a smile came from Chrom, the tension in her dissipated a bit as her attention was drawn to him and away from the plans.

"My sister used to say that," he commented, for the first time that evening having an emotion other than worry on his face. Granted it was only but a hint of reminiscence, but nonetheless a relief for Robin to see.

"Not Lissa, I assume?" she replied with upturned lips, feeling a slight rise in mood in response to Chrom's.

With a quiet, amused scoff, he replied, "No. Emm."

Robin slowly took a seat in the chair behind her. She'd been standing almost the entirety of the few hours in the tent, intently looking over the maps and running around to scribble down notes on some paper or another on the other side of the table. Her feet welcomed the deliverance from their aching, and her mind welcomed the start of a conversation about something other than battle.

"She always did strike me as being very wise," she said as she leaned back in her chair. She couldn't count how many times Chrom had repeated one of Lady Emmeryn's proverbs or mentioned bits of wisdom he'd gotten from her. Not to mention her quiet grace, her pacifism, the way she practically raised two children and took the throne all at the age of eleven: all of it spoke of a woman wise beyond her years. "Perhaps that plays into the people's trust in her."

"I think it's her entire being, not just her wisdom," Chrom replied, resting his hands on the edge of the table before him. "She's never harmed a soul in all my life. All she's ever tried to do is what she thought was best for others, never herself."

The calm tone left Chrom's voice as his face turned darker once more. Robin looked concerned, wishing the mood could've stayed unsoured a moment longer. She hated to see this man, normally so strong and self-assured, trying to suppress all the negative emotions that would've crippled any other. It was clear to see that Lissa was already worried out of her senses, and she had to wonder if Chrom wasn't fighting off the same reaction. A commander had to remain strong for his men, but the sorrow in his voice spoke not of a commander, but of a brother. 

He scoffed, light, disappointed and angry. "And now this is how she's being repaid." He gestured with his head towards the strategy board as disgust filled his eyes. "By being kidnapped and vilified, publicly executed to pay for crimes she didn't commit - that she never would've committed."

"Despicable, I agree." Robin tried to keep her tone level and calming. He was heading to a bad place. "But that's precisely why we're fighting, to ensure her sacrifices won't be in vain. That her ideals may live on."

A bit quieter now, Chrom replied, "Exactly." The anger in his voice eased away along with the crease in his forehead. "Thank you for being so understanding through this, Robin."

"Of course," she replied. A sympathetic smile pulled at her lips, though her eyes remained somewhat sad in light of the situation at hand. "She's your and Lissa's sister, Chrom; there's more to this situation than mere politics and warfare. Only a fool wouldn't understand."

Chrom smiled back, a comfortable moment of peace passing between the two friends before he spoke up once more.

"Can I..." He looked to Robin with wide eyes, almost as though he were begging something of her. Though his voice trailed away as quickly as it had spoken up. Chrom shook his head with a quiet "Mm" as if to say "It's silly. Forget it."

It wasn't her place to pry where her superior did not want her. Robin knew that much. But this was Chrom, a man who'd become something of a good friend beyond an ally. Perhaps he hesitated only because he didn't know if she would listen. Well, she definitely would if it meant furthering their trust between each other, and so she pushed a little. She bore her eyes into him expectantly, a slight amusement in the pursing of her lips as she lead him on.

"Can you...?"

Chrom let out a breath of air, a mixture between a laugh and a sigh. He brought his eyes away from her, pointedly gazing over the maps before him but clearly not taking them in.

"I may be..." He faltered, pausing with uncertainty. "Facing... doubts about tomorrow."

 _Doubts?_ Robin supposed he meant worries rather than uncertainties, seeing as they'd planned each and every detail right down to the socks in their soldiers' shoes. He had to be worried for his sister, right?

"In what way?" she asked for clarity.

"Well, not so much doubt as..." Chrom lost his words again, his face forlorn as though he couldn't find where it was all his thoughts were disappearing to. He stood still for a moment before finally giving up. Letting out a quiet, almost amused sigh, he seemed to regain his focus as he admitted, "If I can be honest with you, I'm terrified, Robin."

Had she heard him correctly?

Terrified? The very word sent pangs of fear through her own stomach. If even Chrom was afraid, what hope could  _she_ have of bravery? 

Naturally she'd expected him to be worried; his sister's life was on the line, after all. But in spite of that, he'd been so confident over the past day, so sure that things would work out if they it the time into them. Why, just earlier he'd said he was certain they'd be swapping stories with Emm on the way home by the next evening.

The mere worry for his sister's well-being had been visible on his face, but terror? Never. For as long as she'd known him, he'd been the very image of bravery. Of a daring and stubborn prince who let nothing and no one stand in his path. Especially this past day, he'd seemed so driven, moreso than herself.

But he was terrified?

Before Robin had the chance to say anything - words or comfort or otherwise - Chrom continued.

"My father died before Lissa was even born, and my mother passed shortly thereafter," he explained somberly. "I was only four years old, Lissa was a baby. But we had Emm, and for as long as I can remember, she's been the one who's cared for us."

Robin remembered fondly all the times that Lissa had clung to her older sister's side as they'd traveled with Emmeryn when evacuating her from Ylisse. It was quite clear to see that the young girl looked to Emmeryn as a bit more than a sister. Chrom, as well, seemed to heed her word and respect her presence more than most little brothers would. There was a deeper dynamic between the siblings, though Robin had never known how early they'd all lost their mother. She'd never known just how long Emmeryn had been the head of their small family, leading and loving them as their mother would've.

"Now I..." Chrom's voice shook, though his face remained dead set against showing any of his pain. "I can't truly recall my own mother's face. Whenever I try, Emmeryn's face is all I can conjure up."

Not remembering your own mother's face... It was a painful feeling indeed, Robin knew all too well. Though she supposed it was doubly dreadful for Chrom. He had known his mother for four years, unlike Robin, who had no idea if her mother even still walked the earth. Chrom knew she'd held him in her arms, he knew she'd watched him grow, maybe he even still had faint memories of her voice. Robin had nothing like that to miss. But to miss someone and not even have the solace to take in seeing their face - if only in your memory - surely had to be worse than never knowing them at all.

She hadn't been expecting such a rush of personal issues when Chrom had begun speaking, but it wasn't that she minded. After all he'd done for her, the least she owed him was a sympathetic ear. But it was clear in the way his grip tightened around the table, turning his knuckles white, that he was getting more and more worked up by the minute. It seemed she'd need to have more than an understanding gaze ready.

"I know we won't lose her," he continued with a voice and gaze of steel. "I won't let that happen. But just the thought of her in pain, the thought of what those vile-..." His voice began to shake, his eyes growing more full of hatred. Just thinking about the Plegians who stole away his sister was blinding him with such anger it seemed he couldn't find the words to express it. His voice continued to rise. "The thought of what's happening to her, what they're probably  _doing_ to her as we stand here-..."

Robin took his shouting, dangerously close to losing control, as her cue to jump in.

"Chrom, sit down. You're exhausted, and you're working yourself up," she said as calmly as she could, imploring him to take a seat next to her and cool his head. It would do no good to wake up the entire camp in a fit of rage. "We need to stay calm."

"How am I to stay calm?" he shouted back, finally unleashing the table from his death grip and sending his hands gesturing angrily. Robin shrank back slightly in caution. "Gods only know what's happening to her and what kind of fear and pain she's experiencing, and meanwhile I'm half a country away! I can't do anything!"

Was he on the verge of tears?

He seemed to realize the shaking in his voice and quickly hardened himself, his anger turning away from worries and into a bitter sense of blame.

"I never shouldn't have let her go back to that damned city." His voice became lower, seething as though he were blaming someone else, but he didn't quite know whom. "I never should've let her out of my sight!"

As levelly as she could, Robin tried to reason, "If she hadn't gone back, Ylisstol could've collapsed in panic."

"It could've rebuilt itself," Chrom shot back stubbornly. 

"Chrom." This time, she didn't speak his name to comfort; it was an order. When he tried to shout something back, one look at her suddenly serious face was enough to stop him.

It didn't take long to realize that he was beyond soothing through sympathy, so catching his attention through sternness seemed the best way left.

"Sit. Please."

Reluctantly, the prince let the tension in his shoulders go and shuffled to the wooden chair next to Robin. With a sigh, or perhaps a perturbed huff, he took a seat. His eyes, however, still remained forward, unwilling to meet those of his tactician. 

"I know you feel guilty," Robin began. "But you couldn't have changed her mind. Like it or not, she's her own person with her own will, and there's nothing you could've done to change that."

"I started this," whispered Chrom as he leaned his head into his hand. Thumb on his temple, he hid his eyes away and massaged his head in stress. "I initiated the attack that made Gangrel launch his war."

"In order to protect Emmeryn."

"And look where that's gotten us!" He dropped his hand in his small outburst, gesturing with hopelessness at the strategies lain across the table. His eyes, finally brought to meet Robin's again, were desperate, angry. Sad. He let out a deep breath and turned away once more as he admitted, "I feel as though I've already failed her."

Robin knew there were countless things she could say to prove him wrong. He was still fighting. He was worrying for her. He couldn't have failed her if hope still remained for tomorrow. But she knew him well enough to know the extents of his stubbornness. He was not a man who'd do what he didn't wish to do, nor would he believe what he didn't wish to believe. 

She could tell him all day long that he hadn't failed yet, but he wouldn't believe her. 

"Then redeem yourself tomorrow if that's the way you feel."

But perhaps she could reach him with reasoning. Perhaps she could help him that way...

"I know you can. And you'll have all of your friends behind you, supporting you every step of the way. I promise."

Carefully, she'd turned in her seat as she'd spoken, facing him closer and clearer. Her hand gently reached out to rest on the arm of his chair, the closeness finally catching his attention. His blue eyes met hers with uncertainty and concern, but all that they lacked, she made up for in excess.

Perhaps it was a bit too bold of her, gazing into her commander's eyes as long as she did, but she felt he needed to see the certainty, the confidence in her and take a bit of it for himself. He needed to remember that he was not alone, for he had an army of his loyal citizens and a close troop of his friends at his back. Herself, Frederick, Lissa... They would all be by his side. All of them would keep him standing tall. All those who loved him would be beside him to fight for and with him - that much, Robin would personally make sure of. Yes, as long as Robin drew breath, she would never let him be alone. 

"And I know it's hardly my place, but..." Robin toyed with the thoughts in her mind, wanting to voice them as precisely as possible. Chrom had said he'd seen Emmeryn as a mother, but Robin didn't get the impression he felt the same was true vice versa. But she saw things differently. "I think Lady Emmeryn sees you and Lissa as her children as well."

The sadness and worry in Chrom's eyes morphed before her into intrigue and, below the surface, something akin to relief. Robin felt her heart lighten seeing the boyish look of affirmation on his face, even if it was somewhat marred by the shadows growing under his eyes. It seemed her words were helping a bit..

"I haven't known her long," Robin began, memories of the exalt's brief time in camp rushing back to her memory and waiting to be recounted to the prince. "But I at least got that impression. I could see how much she enjoyed watching Lissa run around playing her ridiculous pranks, making people smile. Or how she always kept her staff near when she watched you sparring with the others, and the pride in her eyes when you always offered a hand to help them stand again after beating them to the ground.

“You could do no wrong in her eyes. You could never fail her, so don't start to doubt yourself now." In a moment of confidence, Robin moved her hand to his shoulder, squeezing it gently in encouragement. "Keep your head up, Captain."

The sound of his title seemed to have the desired effect, calling Chrom back to reality and reminding him that while he was a brother, he was a leader as well. The tension left his body and the crease left his brows as he pulled himself back together. Robin let her hand fall away from his shoulder, but he caught it before it could reach her side again. Gently, he gave it a quick, well-meant squeeze. A warm flash struck Robin's heart, though as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Her hand was released to be returned to the arm of her chair.

"Thank you, Robin," said Chrom, his voice warm and low. His gaze was still cast to the side, but at least it bore an emotion other than worry now. Robin fought back a blush from her cheeks, her hand still not over the feeling of wanting to return to his own. Chrom continued, oblivious. "Ever the voice of reason."

As evenly as she could, Robin replied kindly, "It's what I'm here for." A beat followed before she continued, closing up her argument. "You will succeed, for Emmeryn. And trust me when I tell you we'll all be by your side when you do. We're all here for you, and for Lissa as well."

"I know, and for that I'm beyond thankful," Chrom replied. "I'm blessed to have such good friends. Without all of your support, I sometimes fear I'd lose the motivation to fight entirely."

"And we feel the same. Without you, who would we be fighting for?" Robin knew, as everyone else did, that Chrom was the common link between them all. The Shepherds were made up of his childhood friends, the allies he'd won, the people who'd served him. He was their leader, plain and simple, and they were loyal to him, fighting for him. When Robin thought of failing him, the thought made her ill not out of fear of disappointing her captain, but out of fear of letting down her friend.

"I think the bonds between us, those are our greatest weapons. Such bonds are the true strength of this army! Our power lies in our will to protect one another moreso than in our strategies.

"Your love for Emmeryn is strong and vice versa, and it would take a demon from hell to break that bond over your will to protect her. No ordinary man nor king nor general would be able to." The passion in Robin's voice rose steadily, her conviction almost tangible as it reached a climax. "Combine that with our physical strength and endless planning and that General Campari won't stand a chance against us!"

Chrom's eyes grew brighter as she spoke, and his lips finally curved so slightly upwards as she came to a close. Finally...

"By Naga," Robin whispered incredulously through a tickled grin. "Is that a smile I see?"

In the somber mood, the sight of his teeth as a full, bashful smile shone on his face seemed lighter than any of the candles around them. His single chuckle gave Robin more peace than she'd found all day. At last, a laugh... Granted, anything but more grim talk of the day to come was welcome, but she was glad it was his laugh.

"For a mere tactician," he said humorously. "You really can rally like a commander."

"Perhaps a change of positions is in order?"

"Haha! I think we'll be fine if you just stay at my side," Chrom replied in good humor. A smile still lingering on his face, he explained softly, "As long as you're there, I don't think you'll _let_ me lose my motivation, right?"

"Not if I can help it."

A moment of peace passed between the two. The camp was silent, the candles flickering and in their final, dimming moments. The mood had gone from tired to angry to disheartened to finally, at last serene. Maps and lists and sketches still covered the wooden table in the tent, but they no longer seemed so threatening. The plans were laid, and they were lain well. With each other's help, both Robin and Chrom knew they could pull it through.

"Well," sighed Robin, finally rising from her chair. With a hand held out to Chrom, she helped him to his feet as well. "One thing's for certain: you'll never make it through the morning, let alone a battle if you don't get some sleep."

"The same goes for you!" said Chrom with a chuckle. Robin released his hand kindly, and as she turned to the strategy board to clean up for the night, he could've sworn he'd seen a dust of red on her cheeks...

Quickly, he jumped in and offered to help her in cleaning up. The maps, the inkwells, the quills and the open strategy guidebooks, the figurines - it all needed to be stored away in the wagons and ready to haul away at dawn's break when the army marched. It was a big job for one person, but Robin politely declined his help. He needed rest, she said, and insisted he retire for the night. 

"If you insist... Mother." Chrom added in playful jab at her with a wry but weary grin, earning one in return from the tactician. With a pat on her shoulder as he made his way to the tent's exit, they exchanged their goodnights, and Chrom soon found himself standing in the cool air of a desert midnight.

Though something seemed to tug at him still. His mind told him to return to the tent, though he knew not why. He'd not forgotten anything, nor had he any more business with the strategy left unfinished. Was it simply his nerves, still restless and needing to prepare more? Or perhaps still anxious and longing to hear more of Robin's reassurances? 

He chalked it up to nothing more than apprehension. Perhaps Robin had been right... He did need sleep. He needed to calm and steel himself, for tomorrow would be - beyond a shadow of a doubt - the most challenging day of his life. No more whining, no more weakness as he'd shown in the past hour with his tactician; his army needed a brave commander if they were to stand a sinner's chance in hell to the following day. 

But, he reminded himself, the bonds among him and his soldiers were their army's _true_ strength, the truest source of their power. That's what Robin had said. He'd have his friends by his side through it all, so the burden of saving his dear sister needn't be on his shoulders alone. He'd have his second in command, Frederick, to take over some of the burden of the military. He'd have Lissa to share some of the emotional burden, no matter how unspoken their support for one another went. And Robin had promised she'd be there to take over... well, any of the weight on his shoulders, tactical or emotional, it seemed. 

Yes, Frederick would be there, Lissa would be there... Stahl, Vaike, Sully, and Miriel... Ricken, Virion and Maribelle...

And Robin. Robin would be there.

That final thought eased his heart as his head hit his pillow, and his tired eyes were finally able to find rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'd take a demon from hell to break that bond, Chrom.
> 
> /A demon from hell./
> 
>  
> 
> Also, Boy, that feeling of wanting to go back into the tent is a dislike of separation that some like to call LooOoOOOOoooVe


	11. No reaction... Was I wrong, then?

**No Reaction... Was I Wrong, Then?**

* * *

A warm desert breeze blew gently across her cheeks. All that met her ears was... silence.

 _No reaction..._ She'd hoped her words would awaken  _something_ within the Plegians, but Gangrel seemed only to watch with little worry.  _Was I wrong, then?_

She scanned the horizon - taking in her last sight of the world she so loved - and then the courtyard below her. All was still, each man watching with bated breath save for one young boy running to her in a panic.

No, this was no young boy, no child anymore, she realized with a twinge in her heart. Nor was the young girl who waited far behind him, frightened and near the arms of the closest man she'd ever had to a father.

Chrom and Lissa... It pained her to leave them, for she'd loved them as her children all their lives. But it was time for her to give what she still could to her people, time for them to see a new world free of pain. If that world needed also be free of her rule, then so be it.  

As it was, she had every faith her brother could lead that new world to the peace and freedom she hoped it would find.

Her feet teetered on the edge of the jutting cliff, the warm air again caressing her face and rustling her robes. A moment long, she allowed her heart to fear for all that she would leave behind - her siblings, her friends, her people. But as quickly as the fears had rushed over her, so quickly were they washed away when she clasped her hands in prayer.

_Naga, my Holy Mother, hear my final prayer. Watch over them, and be with them in my stead._

With the slightest lean forward, she let her fears fall into the wind as she did the same.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was originally WAY longer, but the song is only actually 30 seconds long and doesn't loop. Needless to say, a shortening was needed :) However, I uploaded the original chapter as a separate story if you're interested!  
> Even if you don't listen along, the songs help create a mood and set a stage for me as the writer, and having to wrangle myself in and stick to a limit is good practice.


	12. Don't speak her name!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is much more novelization-y than I usually care to go, but this is a song worthy of nothing short of the battle it belongs to.

**Don't Speak Her Name!**

* * *

 

Robin couldn't remember the last time her clothing had been so drenched, nor could she remember caring less. Her cloak had doubled in weight, making her long for the days she'd spent in pegasus knight armor. Her hair clung to her face and neck, teaming up with the humid air and her racing heart to rob her of just enough breath to make her head spin. Her chest felt as though it would collapse in on her any moment as she barreled through rain and mud, the very air in her lungs tasting bitter. Gods, she had let the exalt die...

All those promises to Chrom, all the reassurances to Lissa, every rallying cry to the troops – all of it had been in vain. All of it had been nothing but empty lies. She'd failed.

Rain fell from the deep gray skies in sheets, a phenomenon that as far as she knew wasn't common to desert lands. Surely it was the heavens, the gods, and all their angels weeping in sympathy for mankind. The world had been robbed of one of its purest of souls.

Khan Basilio shouted from the front of the army to keep moving, to run faster, just a little farther. He had to scream to be heard over the sounds of frantic footsteps in the mud and the clanking of armor as the Ylissean army fled. What had once been a hoard of hopeful men had now been reduced to a mass of prideless citizens with nothing left but the damaged weapons in their hands. Their dignity, their honor, their chances for the glory and peace they'd been promised – all gone, disappeared the second they'd turned tail at the castle courtyard. All gone the moment they'd left the exalt's body behind, her sacrifice lying on the sandstone and her pleas looking less answered by the moment.

Beside her, Chrom had stopped, his head turning slightly to the side as though he wanted to look back towards the capital. His sister was still there... Though Robin felt a pang of remorse run through her stomach, she had to plead with him to continue. Going back was no option, for if they did, there was - without a shadow of a doubt - no chance of returning alive. He tore his eyes away with a clearly heavy heart and ran onward at Robin's side.

However, they along with all their men came to a screeching halt about a mile from where the West Khan had said the caravan was that would smuggle them out. They found themselves frozen, standing between cliffs of a desert canyon. Every which way – the paths, the cliff tops, even the skull in the canyon center – was littered with enemy soldiers in Plegian red. Robin's heart felt as though it would sink straight down into the depths of the earth.

Had they not suffered enough? Was the death of a leader, a sister, a friend not enough? Could the world not allow them at the very least an easy escape so that they may mourn peace?

The general seemed to understand the weight of Emmeryn's final words. He understood she wouldn't have wished to see bloodshed. But when he asked for a surrender from the Ylissean army, it was simply asking too much. He promised to protect them as best he could if they laid down their weapons? Did he really expect to be believed?

How could they expect to be trusted after everything they had done? After the sheer pain that barbaric madman they called a king had just put on them? After starting the war that lead the exalt to cut the thread of her own life?

No. No matter how little hope or pride remained in the Ylissean's hearts, they would fight. To give up would be to surrender to Gangrel, who would surely throw Emmeryn's words to the side and into the mud, disregarding them and disregarding her hopes for the world that she'd left in Chrom's hands. The only way to make sure her sacrifice wouldn't be in vain, that her final pleas went answered, was for the Ylisseans to stay alive long enough to answer them.

_It's them or us. Their wishes or ours._

_I'm sorry, Lady Emmeryn._

* * *

"Frederick! Take Lissa and go!"

"No! No! Robin, please!"

The tactician pushed through the pain of hearing the young princess' wails as she grabbed her by the waist and quickly hoisted her up into Frederick's arms. Lissa's tears fell harder, running into the soaked pigtails clinging to her cheeks. The knight placed her on the back of his horse as her arm stretched out, reaching and screaming for her brother.

"Chrom! Chro-o-ooom!"

Her calls to him went unanswered as he stood too far away, battling off soldiers at Lon'qu's side and keeping them from reaching his younger sister. His  _only_  sister. She either gave up or ran out of air, and her head sank into Frederick's back. Like a child to her father, she wrapped her arms around his waist and sobbed, her shoulders heaving and the sounds lost among the rain and Robin's shouting of commands.

"Vaike! Maribelle! Follow after them and back them up," the tactician ordered. She had no time to stop and think about how wrong it felt to be commanding an army she had failed. Her only thoughts now were how to keep yet another person from falling through her fingers. Especially another royal. "I don't want a finger lain upon Lissa! You keep her safe at any cost! Understand?"

Three heads responded with nods, the fourth remained pressed to Frederick's armor. The knight placed a strong, steadying hand around Lissa's as he gripped his reins and lance with the other. He donned a steeled face over the solemn shock in his eyes and stood ready to charge.

"Go!"

Not a moment after they'd left, a squelch in the mud alerted Robin to a soldier approaching her from the right. The tip of his lance made straight for her abdomen, but thankfully she'd turned out of his way in time to dodge it. As though by reflex, she whipped her tome from her pocket and allowed rain to stain the pages as she tore it open, casting a bolt of thunder that blitzed through the enemy and lit up the darkness for a mere second. Her thunder was weakened by the downpour, but it had been just enough to save her.

Ahead of her, the sight of Miriel's barely-burning blazes showed her she wasn't the only one weakened. The rain allowed for almost no light to burn beneath it - fire, thunder or otherwise. Every spark was eaten up by the sorrow and dampness of the downpour.

Someone had to be assigned to Miriel's side. There was no way she could survive on such weakened magic all alone. Robin charged forward towards the redhead and saw Virion nearby. Grabbing his elbow, she thrust the two together and commanded they watch one another til the battle was through.

More enemy forces were headed their way...

Robin turned her head back to where she'd come from, wondering if she shouldn't go back for Chrom. But an axeman was approaching quickly, and she was forced to remember Lon'qu was at his side and make herself believe that was good enough.

Firing as hard as she could, she fought at Miriel and Virion's sides with her dampened tome in hand, flashes of white-yellow light contrasting too harshly with the darkness of the canyon and sending spots through her vision. At some point, she drew her sword instead. Keeping a soaked and bloodied steel in control proved difficult, but it was enough to keep herself and her friends defended.

She parried, stabbed and slashed for she didn't even know how long. It likely only took a few minutes before one of the other Shepherd swordsman appeared at her side, but it felt far longer.

When the enemies had all been felled, she glanced to her side to thank her ally. Who she didn't expect to see, however, was Lon'qu.

Before speaking a word, her eyes darting left and right looking for Chrom at his side. She saw only three Shepherds, a small crowd of soldiers in Ylissean blue, but to her horror, not Chrom. Not anywhere.

Growing more panicked by the second, she frantically demanded from Lon'qu to know where the prince was. Were they not supposed to be together? He was supposed to be watching him!

"I thought he was with you!" the swordsman insisted.

Robin thought she must've misheard him. Somehow, under the sounds of falling bodies and clashing weapons and splashes in the mud his voice must've been drowned out. But the urgency in his eyes told her otherwise. A beat of stunned fear passed as Robin's stomach felt it would rush up her throat any second. They couldn't lose another one. They couldn't lose Chrom. If anything were to happen to him, she knew it would bring her far past the point of ever forgiving herself. If anything happened to him...

"Enemies approaching!"

Miriel's voice called both Robin and Lon'qu's attention to the openings between the cliffs, where enemy soldiers were beginning to flood in. If it weren't for them, Robin would have loved to break into a full sprint then and there to wherever the prince had run off to. Her heart raced faster yet and panic took over more of her body as she realized she was being cut off from escaping. Virion nocked an arrow with a solemn glare towards one end as Miriel faced the other and withdrew her tome.

Robin's hands, however, only grazed the handle of her sword, too hesitant to actually draw it. What if she didn't have time to fight them off? Gods only knew where Chrom was or whom he was up against. 

There remained few other options, she knew, for standing motionless as the enemy approached would get them nowhere. Just as she was about to steel herself, though, Lon'qu's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Come on!" he called to her, though she didn't quite know what he was referring to. It wasn't until he began running forward, breaking Robin's idle stare at the Plegian forces and charging towards them that she realized just where he wanted to lead her.  

Cordelia's pegasus was just ahead. Soaring through the gray sky like an inverted shadow, its white form plunged toward a wyvern rider above the clifftops. Cordelia drove her lance straight through the red armor of her opponent, staining his chest crimson.  The wyvern hit the stone of the cliffs after a dramatic, almost graceful fall, its rider crushed beneath its weight. The pegasus knight looked up from her fallen opponent just as Lon'qu waved his arm at her, signalling for her to swoop down to him and Robin.

With a large splash in the mud, four hooves and one soaked pegasus knight landed before Robin as Lon'qu pushed her to Cordelia's saddle.

"Go!" he commanded the both of them. He explained in short to Cordelia that Chrom was alone and they needed to find him, sending another tremor through Robin's stomach as she hooked one foot in the pegasus' saddle. "We'll hold the enemies off. You two go."

Robin wrapped an arm around the pegasus' back and held tight with her other hand. Before they lifted off, she managed a silent nod of thanks to the swordsman for his clear thinking in these moments of crisis. Fright still rested in her very bones, but thanks to him, she wouldn't be stuck on the ground unable to fight it. Her heart was still seizing up and her head was still spinning, though, as Cordelia took off, leaving a swordsman, an archer, and a mage behind below them. A faint prayer for their safety passed through her thoughts before she refocused herself on the land before them, looking solely and desperately for a head of blue hair.

"Do you see him?" Cordelia called to her over the flapping of wings once they'd paused in the air, the two of them getting pelted by a constant pouring of raindrops at the high altitude.

She wanted to answer, but the battlefield before her stunned her beyond words.

The whole area looked as dreadful as she'd expected and then some. Bloodied bodies soaked in rain covered the ground, many even in muddied Ylissean blue. Weak flashes of fire showed her Maribelle, riding with Vaike in her horse’s saddle as they tried to keep up with and defend Frederick. The latter was mowing through the throngs of Plegians, his horse galloping fast enough to keep anyone from harming the princess in his saddle. Every few feet, he'd swing his lance with more brutality than Robin had ever seen from him, and the unlucky victims who'd gotten too close would be slain in an arc of silver.

Young Ricken on the other half of the field was protected by Gregor as he attempted to defend himself against a wyvern. Sumia supported Sully  - the undefeatable Sully - by the shoulder as the cavalier tried to keep from losing more blood out of a gash in her side. A flash of white light enveloped her, healing her wound as Libra trust a physic staff in the air. Nowi - sweet, little Nowi - was doing her best to guard the priest from axemen who'd found them, but the magic breath she fired was growing weaker by the second. Everywhere was chaos, struggle, pain...

There truly was no order this battle, Robin realized solemnly. There were so few plans. Any passer-by would've thought the Shepherds were just a band of well-armored civilians fighting for their lives rather than highly trained and organized royal soldiers. Any passer-by would've been partially right... This was no battle. Battle was order, and it was fought with resolve by soldiers fighting for a cause they believed in.  _This_  was nothing more than a desperate struggle being fought through a sea of grief and remorse felt by both sides, and every man or woman on the field was fighting more out of emotion and necessity than any belief.

This theory was evidenced by the mutters of regret from each soldier who struck down someone opposite him, and most especially by the mutters of the name "Emmeryn." The very mention of her sent overwhelming pangs of heartbreak through Robin's stomach and chest, but she knew if she didn't hurry, she might eventually hear the soldiers whispering Chrom's name in addition.

She peeled her eyes harder, squinting through the thick rain and the water dripping into her eyes and pouring over her face. Every corner she scanned for a white cape and a holy sword. With every second she couldn't find him, her chest grew tighter and her grip on Cordelia's saddle a bit looser.  _Please... Please... Please don't let him be -_

And then she saw them: a tattered, barely white cape and a bloodied holy sword slashing through a band of Plegians. A familiar blue haired prince, though the way he moved seemed completely foreign to her. One enemy would fall, and he would turn around a cut down another in a single swing. His rage was almost palpable, even from so far away, and she'd never seen him so brutal. So... barbaric.

"Cordelia," she yelled over the wind and the sound of the storm. Clearly, there was no more time to waste. "He's down there! Go! Go!"

* * *

He was only vaguely aware of Falchion piercing through a body and entering mud as the last of the throng of barbarians sent after him was wiped out.

His shoulders heaved with exhaustion, but moreso with fury. Any time he stopped and let his mind have a moment to look around him, to think about where he was, what he was doing, what had happened, he felt his shoulders shake with the effort of holding back bitter tears.

He needed to be stronger. He needed to make it through this battle, to wipe out the Plegian scum who had attacked him and his men, his  _friends_ , the pegasus knights. Who had taken his sister from him.

And just like that, the rage was back.

He withdrew his sword from the lifeless soldier beneath him and was ready to turn his attention back to the battlefield. The rain was so thick it was almost turning the mudscape in front of him white. Hardly a thing could be seen through the heavy sheets falling from the sky, but ahead of him, a figure caught his eye.

A woman stood on a cliff's edge, brighter and more visible than all the enemy soldiers and all his comrades. Her green robes almost seemed to glow as they fluttered in the wind. Chrom immediately froze at seeing her blonde hair, perfectly dry despite the rain. His blood went cold.  _Sister?_

Emmeryn's eyes met his over the distance, her eyebrows pinching upwards just as his always did when he became saddened. She clasped her hands in front of her stomach, and she tilted her head ever so slightly to the left. She had always done that when she asked Chrom a favor... Always when she said-

"Please, Chrom."

To hear her voice, to hear it clear as a bell as though she were right next to him, sent shivers down Chrom's back. His grip on his sword loosened as his eyes began to sting. Had he not just watched her die in the castle courtyard? What cruelty was making him see her again, knowing she wasn't real? Or perhaps she was real, and sending him a plea from beyond the grave?

" _Emmeryn wouldn't have wished for this to come to bloodshed."_ He hated hearing that man, that commander, speak as though he'd known her. As though he'd known what she would've wanted better than her brother. Though perhaps the real issue, Chrom realized, was that that man had spoken a truth the hurt prince was not willing to face – not when he had such a need for revenge.

A tear rolled down his sister's face. Maybe he had seen it from so far away, or maybe he'd just been able to sense it. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to run to her, to take her in his arms and end this battle and bloodshed – which he, deep down, knew she wouldn't have wanted as a result of her sacrifice for peace. He'd have rather dropped Falchion then and there and had the chance to see his sister close to him, ghost or not, than lift his sword once more in this massacre of a battle.

Though fate wouldn't have it as such.

"CHROM!" a voice bellowed from behind him. A blinding flash of light jolted him out of his thoughts. Shielding his eyes, he whipped around his shoulder and raised his sword again, though it seemed twice as heavy now.

Behind him was Robin, fighting off a wave of soldiers with her tome as Cordelia soared back into the skies to take on a wyvern above them. A partially charred body lay within inches of him, a sword in his hand that had been ready to kill Chrom had Robin not jumped in. More of his kind in Plegian red armor were right behind him, and the tactician was struggling to hold them off.

With urgency, Chrom jumped back into action, leaping forward with an undercut to the ribs of a swordsman who was seconds away from leaving a gaping gash in Robin's arm. Her robe was already covered in a vile mixture of blood and mud, and she was grunting with the effort of fighting off a barbarian as she switched to her sword. He'd be damned if he let them take her as well.

Forced to put all thoughts of pain out of his head once more, he continued to fight tirelessly to Robin's aid. Though no longer was his head blinded and clouded by rage. Rather, he began to feel the same feeling of absolute pain that the other Shepherds were. His will to fight began to drain, and his thirst for revenge lessened with each life he took - not quenched, but rather morphing into regret. 

He didn't get the chance to see if the ghost of his sister still waited on the cliff, though he assumed if she'd been watching still, there were no doubt tears falling from her eyes.

She hadn't wanted things to come to bloodshed.

* * *

 

The soldiers of Plegia hadn't wanted to fight. Neither had their commander, though as Mustafa had said, a soldier's job is not to judge, but rather deliver judgment. They were left without a choice but to strike down the Ylisseans, even if it pained them to do so when they thought of Lady Emmeryn. She had been right in saying that war would bring them naught but sorrow.

And so, when Frederick had made it to the commander and cut him down, the man's last wish was met: They spared the rest of his men. Though if they were being honest, it was less sparing the Plegian soldiers out of understanding and more trying to get themselves to safety while they had a chance that motivated that decision.

When the Shepherds and what Ylissean soldiers were left found themselves stuffed shoulder-to-shoulder into circus wagons by a dancer, there were no words left to be said. Everyone was soaked, covered head to toe in mud and blood from enemies and allies alike. The weight of the massacre was heavy on their shoulders, their hearts ached, and their stomachs hurt. Rain pattering on the wagon's roof as well at the occasional earsplitting crack of thunder were the only sounds to be heard over the horses' galloping as everyone took in what they'd just been through.

Lissa hadn't let go of her older brother since being reunited with him after the battle, and the two of them leaned on the edge of the wagon's wall in silence. Chrom absent-mindedly had an arm draped around his sister's shoulder, reaching up every so often to rub her head as she eventually cried herself to sleep on his shoulder. Robin sat with her fingers on her temples, elbows resting on her knees pulled close to her chest as a look of surrendered misery clouded her face.

"Is everyone okay?" the tactician asked shakily a couple of minutes after they'd set off, her eyes unmoving and lowered with shame as she spoke. Her solemn voice rang out through the wagon as though she'd screamed, splitting the silent atmosphere with that one somber question.

Her concern was met with silent nods all around – save for Lissa, Chrom, and Frederick, who looked to lost in grief to so much as register her voice. Each face looked as grim and shell-shocked as the next. Robin didn't react to their responses, seeming rather to have asked out of reflex and necessity than a genuine ability to worry. 

The ride to Ferox was thereafter spent in silence. There were no words worthy of their anguish and heartbreak. Once or twice someone needed to vomit out the window. Though even then, no words were spoken, and the poor soul who'd become too overwhelmed received nothing more than a sad rub on the back. But no words were spoken. None at all.


	13. Dry your tears, love. This is not goodbye.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frederick reflects on his years with the exalt, and he's all too glad to find a friend willing to listen to his memories of her. If she lives on in people's hearts, Lady Emmeryn will never truly die. 
> 
> Chrom receives a letter from his older sister, written before she passed. He and Robin build each other up for the final battle, and they come out of their sorrows stronger and closer than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Azurillturtle on blogspot for translating Emmeryn's letter from the Drama CD. I changed/added a fair bit, but it wouldn't have been possible without that base. Always nice to have that sweet, sweet canon <3
> 
> (also cheated a bit and listened to A Distant Promise from Echoes while rewriting this oops)

Dry **your tears, love. This is not goodbye.**

* * *

 

The mountains of Western Ferox looked dry and cold. Devoid of trees or streams, snowcaps were all that could be seen resting on them, leaving them looming drearily in the distance to the east. However, the radiant orange of the sunset to the west reflected off their precipices and turned the whole sky golden.

A beautiful display wasted on such a poor mood.

Frederick stood at the stone railings of the open hallways gazing out over the horizon. Two days had passed since the Shepherds had arrived at the West Feroxian fortress, taking refuge and resting up in Khan Flavia's realm. Surely, they'd be heading out soon and making their way back to Plegia to finish this damnable war for good and all. The oddest feeling of total preparedness and utter hopelessness filled the knight's chest. He knew he was ready to avenge the exalt's death.

Though the first part of that sentence brought him adrenaline, the second brought only grief.

He thought back to the battle two days prior in the Midmire. No doubt the mud of that dreadful place was still stained with blood and littered with fallen soldiers. Remorse flooded his heart; how disappointed Lady Emmeryn would be if she could see it. The last thing she'd have wanted was more bloodshed.

But there was still more to come... Gangrel still needed to be brought down. Frederick sighed and closed his eyes, sending a silent apology to his liege. In the last battle, he'd lost all control to anger and pain. This time, he would be careful. He'd kill no more than necessary, he'd remain clear of mind, for only then could he truly keep the weight and purpose of her sacrifice ever-present in his thoughts. He owed her that. All of Ylisse owed her that.

His mind wandered to Chrom. In all relativity, the prince was still so young. Tomorrow, it would be his responsibility to slay a king, and after that, it would be his responsibility to become one. He couldn't imagine that Emmeryn would have left such a weight on the shoulders of her precious younger brother if she hadn't thought he could handle it, but it was nonetheless a daunting thought... But alas, she'd probably explained her thoughts in the letter she'd left the prince, hadn't she?

All through the Midmire, all through Plegia and in their travels before, Frederick had carried two small, crisp envelopes in the inner parts of his armor. Sealed with the royal brand, signed with the delicate script of the exalt, Emmeryn had left them to him before they'd parted at the Breakness Pass. One letter for each of her siblings, should anything happen to her.

He had thought carrying those letters would be the biggest burden his heart would carry. Then, yesterday morning, he thought giving them to the prince and princess after her demise would be the worst it would get. As it turned out, the worst feeling was sitting without that letter inside his armor, knowing the exalt's life and all her wishes were now officially, truly over, delivered, and done.

The setting sun before him reminded him of Ylisstol and the royal palace, and his heart yearned for home, even though he knew "home" would not ever again be the same place. In the city, the end of the day left with even more grace and beauty than in this cold and barren corner of the world. A fleeting memory passed through his mind, short but filled with detail: He'd been a boy of no more than fourteen. Somehow he'd found his shift as guard for the youngest princess' room turned into eight hours of babysitting her, trailing her around the castle as she played. The sun had been setting low, vibrantly scarlet, and young Lissa had managed to toddle off again, this time into the gardens. A butterfly had caught her attention, which – in the light of the sun – appeared to be merely a flying, black shadow.

"Frederick, look! I caught one! I caught a _butterfry_!"

A soft, endeared chuckle had come from behind his shoulder before he could reply. The exalt had stood beside him, a peaceful smile on her face which he would come to know well over the years. A scar had been healing on her shoulder, leaving her right arm wrapped in bandages, and Frederick had heard her brother trying to comfort her not hours earlier. But in spite of all that, looking at her sister jumping about in the grass, she'd looked to be more at peace than any man on earth.

Emmeryn had relieved him of his duties with a hand on his shoulder before gracefully slipping off her shoes, leaving them on the white stone of the patio, and wading into the grass towards her sister in her bare feet.

Frederick had intended to return to his quarters with the other few knights-in-training with haste and perhaps even get some swordplay in before their evening meals were served. But when he'd slipped back through the glass doors into the castle, he'd caught a glimpse of the two princesses as he turned around to close the door behind himself.

The two of them were aglow with the setting sun behind them. Emmeryn had bent down and taken her sister's hands in her own, gently easing them open and allowing the butterfly caught between them to crawl onto her finger. There it rested for only moment before taking flight and fluttering away. Lissa had her head gently taken into the hands of her older sister as a soft kiss was planted on her forehead.

It had been a sight to put even the angriest of men at peace.

But now, there was no garden, no butterfly. Fourteen years had passed and the youngest princess was now a young woman hadn't smiled in two days. Her hands would never again be held by her sister, her forehead never again kissed by her lips. The last words she'd heard from the woman she'd most adored were a false promise: "Dry your tears, love. This is not goodbye."

Now all that was left was the sunset to remind the knight of what once was. To put such a feeling of bitter nostalgia in his stomach.

How quickly all could change...

"Excuse me?"

Frederick's eyes eased open as a voice appeared at his side. Who sought to disturb his reminiscing?

"You're Frederick, aren't you? The royal knight?"

He slowly brought his head down and to his side where the new dancer, Olivia, stood at his side. Her dancing rings and scarf were gone, leaving her hands nothing but her own arms to grip nervously. Although in those clothes, perhaps she was just trying to stay warm.

With a deep, almost annoyed breath, he replied, "Yes, I am."

Olivia spoke up even after he turned his head away, her voice quiet and timid. "I wanted to ask you a question about Lady Emmeryn. You knew her, didn't you?"

Incoherent flashes of blonde hair and a smile from the Ylissean throne flashed through his mind. The ache in his heart renewed itself.

"Yes, I did," he answered, returning his gaze to the mountains and their glow. He shuddered at being forced to use the past tense in reference to a woman who had been at the center of all his present thoughts since he could remember. "I did know her quite well."

"That must've been a blessing," commented Olivia with a weak smile. She took a single step closer towards Frederick, approaching the stone railing of the wrap-around balcony. "I-... Well, I- I suppose I just wanted to ask you what she was like."

What she was like? Why did this woman want to know?

"I-I-If you don't mind my asking!" Olivia stuttered after the fact, drawing her arms even closer to her body as if to look smaller. "She did me a kindness once; It's because of her that I met Khan Basilio. I owe almost everything I have now to her. I suppose I just wanted to know who it was I've been thanking all this time. She- She seemed like... a wonderful person. B-But if it's painful for you to talk about then ple-!"

"She was always wise beyond her years," Frederick began with warm reverence in his tone. He never considered himself a man of emotion or eloquence with words, so to describe years worth of time with the exalt was difficult. How could he put so many years, such a personality as Emmeryn's into words?

But for once, when he saw her face in his mind, when he thought of all the years they'd grown up together, he felt words and emotion, and he felt someone deserved to know what he knew about her. Someone had to hear about the time she nursed a baby mouse from the kitchens to health alone, the time she'd attempted to cut a young Chrom's hair on her own, knocked an expensive statue over and fallen into a nearby pond while attempting to teach Lissa wind magic, healed a village full of sick peasants and spent the next week recovering from her own exhaustion. If someone else knew, those memories would be sure to live on... Emmeryn would be sure to live on.

Yes... This didn't have to be goodbye. She would live on as long as she wasn't forgotten, and how could he ever forget her?

Though he stood straight, tall, and still and his face remained calm, he was very glad to have someone to listen. He was glad someone was there with whom he could share the task of keeping these memories - and his liege - alive.

"Though she could have the demeanor of a child when she so wished! Hah... There were days -..."

* * *

Robin stood still before an exceptionally ornate door in the innermost part of the fortress, her own arms clutched nervously in her hands as her stomach began to churn. Behind that door was Chrom's quarters... She supposed she had to face him at some point.

Steeling herself, she let the purple sleeve of her robe slide down her arm as she raised her hand to the door. Goosebumps appeared on her skin as it came in contact with the cold air. Her knuckles rapped on the wood before her, and her heart shook a bit more with each echo the sounds sent down the hallway. "Chrom? It's Robin. May I come in?"

No answer. Her stomach sank at imagining what was awaiting her inside. Most likely, the prince was either crying and didn't wish her to see him, or angry with her and didn't wish to see her.

The urge to run hit her for the umpteenth time, but she knew she'd spent enough time hiding from him since their arrival. Chrom had been kind to her when they'd arrived in Ferox, but if any anger or resentment still lingered in him, they needed to face it now - regardless of whether or not she felt ready to hear it. The battle against Gangrel would require the best teamwork the Shepherds could offer. They wouldn't be able to withstand an army if their two commanders weren't in perfect harmony.

With a steadying breath, she slowly let her hand drift to the ornate metal handle of the door. With a cautious push down, she nudged the door open slow enough to let him time to turn her away if she was unwanted. Still, no calling came from the door's other side, so she entered fully.

"Chrom?"

The curtains still stood wide open, letting in the evening light as the room became bathed in a dim glow turned somber by the gray stone walls around them.

What met Robin's eyes was not what she expected. The prince wasn't lying in bed nor was he crying. Rather, he stood in the light of the window, his shoulders tense as he concentrated on a piece of paper gripped in his hands before him. With a brief glance up, he seemed to barely recognize that someone had entered his room.

"Robin," he greeted her shortly. His eyes flickered towards hers before returning to the sheet in his hands. In a gruff whisper, he added on a quick, "Good evening."

"Good evening," replied Robin as she stared worriedly at him. Gently, she closed the door behind her and cautiously entered the room. What was he reading? And why was he so unreadable?

She wasn't quite sure where to begin or how to break the ice. She hadn't spoken with Chrom since arriving two days ago. He'd made himself scarce, as had Robin. As it was, she'd taken his distancing himself as his way of preparing, pulling himself together for the battle to come. He didn't seem the type to need comforting like his younger sister, even if both of them were clearly putting on brave faces since the rousing speech Chrom had made upon their arrival... She'd since been making up for her own failures, doing everything she could for the Shepherds as they healed. Perhaps then, once Chrom had pulled himself enough together that they could talk strategy, she might feel worthy of working at his side again.

"I just came to discuss a few things... How are you doing?" she asked gently, testing the waters. Just how angry or sad was he? Or was he really okay now?

Chrom nodded slowly, remaining absorbed in the paper in his hands a moment longer. His head raised up afterwards, lowering his arm and putting an unreadable ghost of a smile on at the same time. Finally looking Robin in the eyes, he commented, "It's been a few days since we've spoken, hasn't it?"

"Yes, I'm sorry," the tactician apologized, brushing over the fact that he'd ignored her question. Having his attention, she felt more comfortable approaching him on the other side of the room. "I've been... busy."

"Hm."

Why did he seem so forlorn? Just what had he been reading?

"Is everything alright?" Robin asked, her eyes wandering to the sheet of paper pinched between the prince's fingers. Thin, black script seemed to cover it, though she couldn't make out a word from such a distance.

With a light sigh, he replied as he extended the sheet out to her, bidding she take it. "Frederick gave me this letter yesterday. It's... from Emm."

Her heart seized a moment long. "Lady Emmeryn?" Robin's eyes widened as her stomach clenched. Was it a will? A letter from beyond the grave? How painful it must have been for him to read... She neared Chrom and took the letter offered to her with care, glancing back up at him to make sure he was really alright with her reading something so... intimate.

Hearing the slight crinkle of the paper between her fingers sent a chill down her spine. She let her eyes sink from Chrom and down to the letter as the regal script flooded her eyes. "Dear Chrom," she began to read aloud.

 _If you are reading this letter, I have passed on from this world._ _First and foremost, I must say that I have placed a terrible burden on Frederick by entrusting him with this letter. Phila would have refused it outright had I asked her to deliver it, therefore I had no choice but to rely on Frederick. As always. Please tell him I beg his forgiveness, and I hope he is doing well._

_And now to you, Chrom. I wish to thank you for doing your utmost to protect me until now. Though I have known since our failed parley with King Gangrel that my own sacrifice would be necessary to herald peace in our nation, I'm sure my death came as a shock to you. Such a conclusion, despite your consideration for me, must cause you much grief. For that, I am truly sorry. But this is the natural choice for me. It is what I wish, so there is no need to fret, my brother. I want you to know and remember that._

_You and Lissa both are my most precious treasures, my siblings. When we lost our father and then our mother, I swore to myself that I would raise and protect the two of you in their stead. But rather than simply being my duty, it was my greatest joy. More accurately put, rather than just being my brother and sister, I loved you as if you were my own children. I hope you thought of me as something of a mother as well, even if only as a somewhat unreliable one sometimes!_

_And so are my feelings for our people, my dear brother. I think of everyone, the people of Ylisse and the people of other nations, as my family. I love them just as I do you and Lissa, and I want to cherish all people as if they were my own children. While others focus on the borders dividing our nations, I prefer to see the humanity in us all that binds us together as one race, one people. One family. That is how I live._

__It does not matter what happens to me, Chrom, so long as I may continue loving. If I can die to protect you and Lissa, the people of Ylisse, and the people I do not know, that is my choice and my greatest joy as a mother. I believe my life shone brightly until the end, and I will continue to watch over you all and love you from the heavens._ _

___I am at peace, my brother, so please do not grieve or despair for me. Do not give up on loving the world. So long as you can love the people of this world - your friends, family, citizens or otherwise - you can love the world itself. And I know there are plenty of people standing by you for you to love, and surely there will be many more to come as you found a family of your own.___

___You will love the world, and I know you will lead it to a better place in my stead. I have every faith in you, Chrom. Believe in yourself, believe in your friends, and above all else, believe in the power that love can have to change the world._ _ _

_P.S. It will surely take Lissa some time to recover. Please support her, Chrom. I leave my parental duties to you, and, of course, to Frederick. Don't let him go too mad with power, now!_

_Sincerely,_

_Your sister and mother, Emmeryn_

"I was wrong..." Chrom concluded in a whisper as Robin finished reading with a shaky voice. He had ended up sitting on the bed with his head in his hands as Robin paced the room. "The whole time I thought I was protecting her, when she was protecting me."

"Of course she was," Robin answered, her eyes still lost in the letter. "She loved you."

"And I loved her. Like I told you before, she was a mother to me." Chrom thought back to the night before their march to the Plegian capital and the conversation he'd had there with Robin. "To know she loved me as a child... It must seem daft but it's a rather small comfort to know."

"It's not daft," Robin whispered. She didn't think so for an instant. Quite the contrary, in fact, as a feeling of relief was beginning to grow in her chest. Just to hear someone speak the word 'comfort' was one in itself.

"But I think I understand now. I understand why she did what she did." Chrom rose from the bed and paced over to Robin, taking the sheet of paper back from her and gently pinching it between his fingers. His eyes ran over the words before him, the final connection he had to his sister. "It wasn't just out of necessity or because I was weak or incapable, but rather out of love. I think I want to do the same for this world."

"What do you mean?" asked Robin.

"I want to give my all to protect this world and love it as Emm did. It's my duty as an Ylissean royal." A look of somber determination crossed the prince's face. His blue eyes stayed locked on the signature on the letter, his sister's name. That signature was the last seal on her wishes, her legacy, and that legacy was now Chrom's to carry on. "Soon, we'll be on our way to defeat Gangrel, and I swear it, Robin, I'll not let him destroy our peace any further. I'll protect the world I love and the people I love as well. Just as Emm would've."

To hear him speak so hopefully... Just two days ago, he'd been almost in tears in her arms, wondering if he was truly worthy of his sister's ideals. Now here he was, renewed and ready to live them out as his own. Was he truly growing better? Was he truly not angry with her?

"Robin? Are you okay?"

Without realizing it, Robin had let her eyes well up with tears. What emotion they stood for, she didn't know. In any case, she hurriedly brushed the tip of her cloak sleeves at her eyes, wiping away the tears.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just... I'm so relieved to see you're alright." She had walked into this room expecting to fulfill her promise to pick Chrom up when he was down. At the very least, she was expecting bitterness. For the entirety of the past two days, she'd done nothing but try to make up for her failures, and now... he was alright? "I hated to think you were so discouraged and upset. I hated knowing..."

With every word, she could feel her chest shaking. She wasn't so overwhelmed as to let herself cry in front of him, but it was enough a wave of emotion to set her voice shaking.

"I hated knowing I was partially responsible. I wanted to help, and I tried to! But nothing felt like enough." Where was this flood of words coming from? Had she been holding this much back this whole time? "I felt so guilty, and it  _is_ a comfort to hear she'd done it of her own accord, but I still have felt responsible this whole time! I hated -"

"Robin," Chrom gently attempted to pause her in her ramblings.

"-seeing you so putting the blame on yourself when if it should've been on anyone, it should've been on m-"

"Robin! You've already done more than enough." Chrom raised his voice to stop her hurried gush of apologies, looking her with a calm sternness right in her eyes. "I don't care to see  _you_  blaming yourself for what happened either, much less exhausting yourself trying to atone for something you weren't responsible for."

"I  _was_ responsible! Don't you understand, Chrom?" Robin retorted, her voice growing into a shout. Her face grew angry and miserable. "This was my  _job!_ It was my  _duty_ to keep us all safe, and I let everyone down! Even if Lady Emmeryn had planned this, I could have thought of another way out. How can-... Even when I promised to help you fight for her ideals, I don't see how I can! How can I lead us in the days to come when I'm... when I've already failed the whole army?"

Chrom took a step closer as Robin pointed her gaze away with bitterness. In contrast to her anger, he kept his voice low and soothing.

"I failed in my duties as well, as a commander and a prince. But I'll tell you what you told me two days ago," he began. He thought back to Robin's face, covered in dirt and tears as her brown eyes had born into his with concern and determination. He thought about the words that had given him the courage to stand back up again and face the Shepherds and what was still giving him hope that they would emerge from the war victorious. It was time to give some of her kindness back. "If you aren't worthy, you'll work at it until you are. And if you fall, I'll be there to help pull you up.

"Robin, when we got to Ferox, I felt like the least worthy man in the world of a band of such brave soldiers as all of you, who had all fought so hard and stood by my side even when I was pulling away. I was certain I would lose everything, and I didn’t have the will to care."

Chrom remembered the feeling of utter misery in his chest that day, as though his whole world was collapsing around him. And then one pillar, solid and ready to hold him and everything else up, appeared in front of him and put a hand on his arm.

"Until you came to me. Until you promised to stand by my side – no matter what, and now I promise to stand by yours."

Robin found her eyes leaving the floor to meet Chrom's. A frown was still on her lips and a disbelieving look in her eyes, as though she knew what words were coming but wasn't ready to accept them.

"Robin, I don't care if we lose one battle or a thousand on your tactics! I wouldn't care if you decided to put down your sword and form an entertainment duet with Olivia!" said Chrom, humor entering his voice for the first time in too long. A flicker of warmth sparked in the tactician's heart as a chuckle was breathed through her lips. "I keep you here for more than your strategies. You're more to all of us than just the tactician; you're a dear friend. And when you encouraged me, I realized yet again that... that I won't falter again if I have you by my side. Like you said, we'll lift one another up, and together we can live up to Emm's legacy. I'm sure of it."

"Chrom..." Robin couldn't find the words to reply. What had she done to deserve such faith from someone so strong? How had she been blessed enough to have been delivered to someone who was willing to consider her as he did, as a dear friend and someone to be depended on no matter what?

"We won't give up on 'loving the world', will we? On loving the people in it?" He, for one knew he wouldn't. Emmeryn was right: He would love the world, because the people he loved were in it. He loved the people who swore to fight by his side. He loved the people who could lift him up when he was at his lowest point. He loved the people who he needed, who brought out the better parts of him. He loved the fields to the southeast of Southtown, and he loved the breeze and the blue skies in his memory of the day such people had been delivered to him by the gods. 

'People'... or perhaps the proper word was 'person.'

"What do you say, friend?" Chrom held out a black-gloved hand to Robin, a gentle smile pushing his soft cheeks upwards towards his earnest eyes. "Are you still willing to help me? Will you help me lead the Shepherds to victory one more time?"

He really was going to stand by her. This thought came as a comfort to both of them. They needed one another, now more than ever.

Robin found a smile tug at the corners of her lips. As she looked into Chrom's eyes, sincerity and... something else she couldn't read looked back at her. It looked like the sweetest mixture of trust, concern, comfort and – the one thing that finally set Robin at ease to see – hope.

She reached her own hand out, resting it in his palm and feeling it grasped tightly by his fingers. She let her own smile grow and answered in confident honesty:

"It would be an honor."

That night, for the first time, they'd embraced one another. Neither was sure who'd initiated it, but both appreciated it in all its (initial) awkwardness, comfort, and (eventually) peace. Perhaps it lasted too long or perhaps it was improper of them. But two things were certain: the stillness and safety they found in one another had been just what they both needed, and for the first time since Plegia, both of them felt as though all were close to normal once more.

Things were right. They were at each other's sides, realizing where they belonged. Two single parts they were, finally realizing how it felt to be whole.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there isn't *clap* enough *clap* Frederick/ *clap* Olivia *clap* Fan- *clap* fiction. I'm still not sure to what extent I ship Frederick/Emmeryn, but I know there's something there, even if it's just like family love.
> 
> Also I've never written anything that cheesy before, but that choir in A Distant Promise was playing and all my chrobin affection just flooded over and I thought "Eh why not?"


	14. Ha ha! Yes, it will take some getting used to!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluuuuuuff.

  **Ha ha! Yes, it will take some getting used to.**

* * *

 

Had all of Ylisstol come to the cathedral?

Robin peeked out at the crowds from behind a stone pillar and through a set of glass doors. Her stomach was in knots, and she almost wished she'd stayed in her dressing room where she was supposed to be. Fancy that, a war hero brought to anxiety by a crowd of Ylisse's high society circles - neither armed nor dangerous...

The human masses of the capital city, which had amazed her mere months ago, now had her feeling as though a griffon were sitting on her chest. Every pew in the city's grand cathedral was filled, the balconies as well, rows upon rows of finely-clad nobles waiting anxiously for the coronation of their next exalt. What Robin suspected they still had mixed feelings about, however, was the wedding that would accompany the royal crowning. It seemed the court, whose members wholeheartedly supported her promotion to Grandmaster of Ylisse, was less sure of her capabilities as a member of their royal family...

Robin placed a white-gloved hand on her stomach and took a deep, slow breath in an attempt to calm herself down. She would prove herself to the nobility in time, she chanted to herself. She wouldn’t let what they thought ruin this day. She was marrying the man she'd grown to love, with whom she'd developed a two-sided trust and respect, who she'd supported and who’d supported her, and that was what was important. She couldn't blame the court for receiving Chrom's insistence on skipping a courtship poorly, which would’ve acted as an effective trial period; they'd not been with them since the day they met, and they'd not seen their relationship bloom as the other Shepherds had.

Ah, yes. The other Shepherds. Robin set her sights on them, a neat line of lightly-armored guards along the cathedral walls, and her heart felt more at ease. A timid smile graced her lips from under her short, white veil. This church wasn't filled with only unfamiliar faces after all.

"I don't see why we have to make such a big production of this!" an irritated voice echoed from afar. Robin shirked back behind her pillar a bit more as she gazed down the hallway to her left. Footsteps accompanied the voice as it grew closer.

"It's custom, milord."

"It's pageantry! It's flamboyant!" That voice sounded... familiar. "This cape alone is worth more than the whole of this cathedral – about as heavy as the damned thing as well – and for wha- Stop adjusting it, Frederick!"

Frederick? Robin's eyes widened in alarm as she realized just who it was who was coming down the hall. In panic, she began to back away and scurry around in search of a hiding place.

"Apologies, milord," came the baritone voice of the royal retainer. "Just remember to bear in mind: this  _should,_ in the future, be referenced as the happiest day of your life."

They were getting closer! Robin stumbled about the hallways frantically, not wanting to run off ahead of them for fear of getting lost – she couldn't remember the way back to the dressing room. She and Chrom couldn't see each other before entering the sanctuary, which was precisely why they'd spent the past day and a half apart, broken off all contact save for a stolen the touch of one another's hands through an open crack in the door that morning. Only with the eyes of Naga on them could the beginning of their marriage be blessed with good fortune. Or so the old wives' tales went, at least.

"It could've just as easily been so with a more modest ceremony. Emmeryn's coronation was nowhere near this grand," Chrom pointed out with agitation as he finally rounded the corner, his guard just behind his right shoulder as the two of them came into Robin's sight. "And as for the wedding, I'm sure Robin wouldn't have-"

The two men came to a sudden halt, the bride standing equally stunned in front of them. Eyes wide, a guilty smile grew on her lips. She was caught, and she knew it.

However, the sheepishness on her face very quickly morphed into a beam as her worries of impending bad luck became drowned out at the sight of her husband-to-be.

Gone was the faded blue tunic he favored, gone was the tattered white cloth he still tried to pass as a cape. He had never looked more regal than he did now in the finest of white robes, a thick blue cape trimmed with white fur (which she would admit, did in fact look quite heavy) draped over his shoulders. It was odd to see him that way, but it was an oddly good feeling.

As bride and groom stood still, staring at one another with the purest of smiles growing on their faces, Frederick took this as his hint to bow out. He excused himself to 'attend to a few last minute duties', leaving the two of them alone.

"Robin," Chrom began, clearly trying to keep from grinning so widely as to keep him from even speaking. "You look..."

Robin blushed as she nervously smoothed the skirt of her dress down. All of the heavy white lace, the tight sleeves that went all the way to her hands, the corset (though Maribelle and the head housekeeper in charge of preparing her had shown mercy and given her one of the looser ones)... they all seemed to be closing in on her, lessening her mobility. She didn't expect to need to wield a sword any time soon, but knowing she couldn't set her on edge.

Though just once it did feel rather nice to be beautiful enough to stop a man in his tracks.

"Thank you," Robin said delicately, bashfully looking at the ground. "You know, we're just asking for bad luck, seeing each other outside the sanctuary like this."

"Bad luck married to you still isn't bad luck at all," stated Chrom gently, a tender look on his face. However, the tenderness didn't last long before giving way to his usual loss of eloquence. "That didn't make much sense, did it? I- What I mean to say is, well,  _y_ _ou_ are good luck. Not like a trinket! But because you're lucky unto yourself, a-and-"

It didn't take long before both of them lost the ability hold back their laughter at his stumbling tongue as he struggled to make it to the end of a sentence. As Robin stood giggling like a young girl, any nerves she'd had had disappeared. This was most definitely the same man she'd fallen in love with, and that was enough to remind her to be happy for this day.

"What I mean," Chrom calmed his own embarrassed smile down as he took a step towards Robin. She took him by the arm and guided him a couple more steps back to avoid being visible through the glass doors to the sanctuary. "Is I feel very lucky to be here. Marrying you."

Her heart clenched in excitement as she gaze into his eyes and replied, "Not nearly as lucky as I do."

He took her right hand and clasped in front of his chest. Gently, he stroked it through the white lace of her glove, small flecks of pink shining through the holes in the intricate designs. Her brand. She was too preoccupied to worry about the mystery behind those six pink eyes today, but gods help her when she found the time to do so...

Chrom, Lissa and Frederick were the only ones who knew of it, having been there for her awakening in the field all those months ago. They knew, as most everyone did, that not just any family passed brands through its descendants. Prominent ones did. Robin hated to think what the court would've done had they known  _that_ particular detail in addition to all the other objections they'd had against her.

"Aren't you nervous at all?" Robin asked. She had to wonder whether or not he could feel the same seed of doubt being sown in him as she did, whether the same worrisome thoughts about the court, the throne, her past, and their future together slipped into his mind every so often as well.

"About bad luck?" asked Chrom, releasing her hand slightly. His eyebrows furrowed as they often did, revealing his confusion at her sudden question.

"No, of... being king. Of being married." Robin's voice had quieted down as her eyes drifted away from Chrom's, deep in thought. "It's a lot for you to take on at once, especially considering everything that's happened recently."

"Honestly? No, I'm not." Chrom took a moment to formulate his explanation. How would he explain this near total lack of worry for the years to come? What was it that was making his only concern that day making it through the ceremony without making a fool of himself?

"It's true that things aren't quite going as I'd planned. I never thought I'd become king," he began. Growing up, not once did he ever see the weight of Ylisse landing on his shoulders. In his naive young mind, he'd never had a reason to think Emmeryn wouldn't be there. He'd expected his marriage to be a small event, that Emmeryn's would be such a large and grand production as this. Not that he could be too upset... "I never thought I'd be standing here, about to make such a wonderful woman queen."

He saw a blush creep onto Robin's face, one which he undoubtedly mirrored as he stroked her hands a bit tighter.

"But I'm not scared," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, the words he spoke between him and his bride alone. "In fact, it's because of the queen-to-be that I feel so at ease."

Robin looked curiously into his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well..." Chrom hesitated a moment before taking Robin by the elbow and gently pulling her in front of him. Her back to his chest, he turned them both towards the sanctuary.

Still half-hidden by the stone pillar, he asked her to gaze out at the crowds through the glass doors. Then at the Shepherds standing at the perimeter.

"The only thing separating all those nobles from the Shepherds is armor. My sister taught me to see all people equally, and the nobility of Ylisse is just like the Shepherds. They're simply _people_ looking for someone to lead them, and that's just what we'll be doing."

After a moment's hesitation, he placed his hands softly around Robin's waist. He felt her breath catch - this was all still new to them - and he knew her attention was caught as well. From behind her back, he said as soothingly as he could, "We'll be leading together, just as always. And the same goes for our marriage."

Backing fully behind the pillar again, Chrom turned Robin back around to face him. He gazed as deeply into her familiar brown eyes as he dared, for it was far too easy to get lost in them and lose his words. 

"I love you, Robin," he whispered, leaning in a bit closer to her as he felt small hands latch onto his own once more. "And I can't think of anyone I'd be less afraid to take on the world with than you."

"Chrom..." A smile spread across Robin's face, touched as she was reminded of why it was she was marrying this man: They were a team, and she never would want it to be any other way. She  _couldn't bring_  herself to imagine it any other way. "I love you too."

The thought that sovereigns and tacticians shared similarities never occurred to Robin. In fact, she was almost ashamed that in her fretting and planning she'd forgotten to calm her mind with some critical thinking. What kind of tactician was she to look at a population and see only a chaotic mass of people rather than a group to be guided? The laws she and Chrom could make... what were they if not strategies, plans for helping the people and keeping Ylisse a proud nation?

Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. Thank goodness she had Chrom and his knowledge of her mind to make her see that.

She closed the distance between them, resting her forehead to his as her eyes fluttered shut, their hands still clasped between them. Robin settled into his grasp, a contented sigh breathed through her lips as all the tension in her muscles left her. The feeling of his hands around hers, of his face so close, this feeling of safety... It was all still relatively new for the both of them, but Robin could see herself getting very used to a feeling like this. Why, if she had the choice, she would have stayed with him all day just like that.

 _I never want to let you go, Robin. Does that make me selfish?_ She could still hear the words of his proposal from those many weeks ago, their meaning feeling more potent than ever now that she stood in his arms.

_If so, then let me be selfish, too. I would be with you, always._

Robin let out a breath of laughter, half amused and half at peace. Her hand left his and raised to his neck, pulling his head a bit closer as she whispered, "Gods be praised that it was you who found me in the field that day."

Two strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a voice breathed from mere inches away, "Gods be praised for leading me to you."

They stayed that way for what felt, in their world of their own, like a small eternity. The chattering and bustle from the sanctuary went quiet, their breathing slowed and synchronized, time seemed to halt. After months of war, months of turmoil and living as nothing but soldiers, they now had a moment in which only the two of them existed. There were no duties, there were no responsibilities - only two sets of hands, two foreheads leaning on one another, and two generals who had found all they'd ever need in each other.

 

But alas, there _were_ responsibilities to see to. One large one, in fact, involving sages, the hierarch and, most importantly, a bride and groom. As much as they would've loved to forget it in that moment, it would ensure their wishes to always stay by one another would be fulfilled.

"Ahem. Milord, the sages are prepared to begin." The voice pulled Chrom and Robin out of their trance. Frederick had reappeared behind them, and the wedding was evidently about to begin. Both of them wanted to beg for another minute together, but both were held back by the anticipation of the ceremony to come.

With the hesitation of unwillingness, Chrom slowly lowered his and Robin's hands and separated them. Suddenly, his gloves felt colder.

"Alright," he said over his shoulder, letting the knight know he'd heard him. However, his eyes quickly returned to his bride thereafter. Though the distance between them was greater now, their hands seemed to gravitate back towards one another, longing for one another's touch once more. Chrom tried to drink in the sight of the woman in front of him, a beautiful figure of white with those brown eyes of hers glowing above a smile and standing out like never before. Those eyes, those familiar, piercing eyes... It took everything in him to drag himself away from them rather than move closer.

"We'll see each other on the altar, then," he whispered, ending with a gentle smile that betrayed all his excitement. Robin mirrored it and tightened her grip around his fingers.

"Yes," she replied. "We will."

Slowly the two pulled away from one another as Chrom left down the hallway, releasing their hands from one another only when they couldn't stretch their arms any farther as the distance between them grew.

When Chrom had definitely disappeared, his footsteps no longer able to be heard, Robin let out a happy sigh. With a humor tainted by nerves, she turned to face Frederick, who stood still at attention near the glass doors to the sanctuary. As Chrom made his way to the front of the cathedral, Frederick would serve the queen-to-be. He would be the one to accompany her down the aisle, a task normally performed in royal weddings by the foreign king presenting his princess or the nobleman presenting his daughter. But alas, these were no normal circumstances.

"Is this how you pictured things playing out when we met?" she asked teasingly. She could still remember how against her joining the Shepherds he'd been, how Chrom could so rarely find a minute away from his protective gaze whenever Robin was around... And now here they stood, Frederick waiting to walk the very vagabond he'd felt so unsure of down the aisle – to marry the man he'd tried to protect from her, no less. How far they'd come.

"Not immediately, but it certainly became a concern of mine over time," he answered in his usual muted tone. He held out an arm, now covered only by light and practically decorative armor rather than his full gear, and Robin looped her own through it. "It wasn't difficult to see how milord took an instant liking to you."

Robin thought back on her time with Chrom, and realized it was true that things had seemed rather... easy with him. She'd never had to work particularly hard to gain his approval or trust. Or attention. All that he granted her almost immediately. A memory of a moment in her first few days with Chrom's party came to mind, early in the morning on the bank of a stream – the first time she and Chrom had ever been alone. Even then, when they had barely known each other, conversation had seemed to come easy to them.

Yes, perhaps there was something of an instant liking. Perhaps Frederick's wariness hadn't been so unwarranted after all!

"And what kind of guard would you have been if you didn't worry about him marrying the mysterious amnesiac, right Frederick the Wary?" She looked out at the inner hall of the cathedral, the walls a blue and white mosaic of large stones, the floors covered by pews and people. She snuck a glace at Frederick with a smirk, mostly just to get her eyes off the very intimidating scene before her.

"Haha. Precisely."

His reply somehow left a bitter feeling in her stomach. Of course, she understood the answer – even agreed. It wasn't that she wanted to fish for compliments, but she longed to hear something friendly and encouraging. Though she knew that wasn't quite Frederick's style. The fact that he had hapilly agreed to walk her down the aisle spoke enough to the fact that he had come to trust her too.

The sound of trumpets blaring and a choir beginning to sing alongside violins violently grabbed Robin's attention. The Ylissean anthem began playing loud as the whole crowd within the hall stood up. Suddenly, the situation became very real as it stared her in the face, and all her nervousness seemed to explode in her chest.

She normally hated to show such weak anxiety, especially in front of others, but as all the work she'd done to calm herself down came undone she just couldn't hide it. Her chest tightened as she gently took in a few gasps of breath with widened eyes. She saw Chrom take his place on the altar right in front of the crown he'd be made king with. He looked so regal, so sure of himself... What had she been thinking - this cathedral, this ceremony, this _dress!_  Who was she to think she was worthy of marrying into a family like his?

Before her anxious thoughts had a chance to run too far away from reason, Frederick spoke up, keeping his baritone voice as calm as possible. "You have nothing to fear, milady. I'm confident you'll make a fine queen, one to be honored and respected. And you'll make an even finer wife."

To hear such a sentiment come from Frederick was enough of a shock to get her attention, calm and well-thought-out and so very 'Frederick'. She looked up at him, touched that he would say such a thing and even moreso that he believed it.

"I suppose my wariness will need to find its end."

Seeing his famous disarming smile brought Robin to the realization that she finally had earned his trust, and more impressively his faith. Perhaps it was silly, but she thought if she could win Frederick over, there was no one she couldn't gain the trust of.

"Haha! Yes, it will take some getting used to, won't it?" Robin jested as she used her newfound courage to face the sanctuary once more. The music was coming to an end, and the crowd began to sit down. "For both of us. Frederick the Unwary and  _Queen_  Robin, serving under  _King_  Chrom."

" _Ladies and gentlemen of Ylisse!"_ The newly appointed church hierarch began to speak in a booming voice, commencing the ceremony.  _"Bear witness today to the writing of history."_

"I think we'll survive," replied Frederick.

" _Under the eyes of Naga shall her next ancestor be crowned in exaltation as king and guardian of her blessed realm."_

"Thank you, Frederick." Robin watched the scene through the glass doors unfold. Chrom knelt on his knees before the hierarch, and she let herself smile. Her heart felt much lighter now. "Freddy Bear."

"Stop."

" _But truly is there no greater blessing in the eyes of the gods than the blessings of constancy, fidelity, and above all_ love, _bound together as one in holy matrimony."_

Robin took one last deep breath, knowing her queue was coming to enter. She took her eyes off Chrom for a moment to gaze through the crowd. She could see only the backs of heads across the sea of nobles in the pews, but to the sides she saw the Shepherds. Spaced in intervals along the sides and used as guards of sorts, it was clear they tried to look proper with their backs straight and their arms stiff with their hands folded at the bases of their backs. They tried to look like soldiers, but their faces were betraying them all.

Half of them looked excitedly at Chrom – Vaike even let out a silent snicker as his old sparring mate was about to become king – and the other half were anxiously craning their necks to the back, waiting for Robin to enter. The tactician had her eyes caught by Nowi, who excitedly waved at her with a big smile Robin couldn't help but return.

" _Would everyone do the future queen of Ylisse the honor of rising?"_

Shuffling sounds came from the crowd as they stood. All eyes turned towards her, but she didn't shrink or scare under them. Two young priests opened the glass doors wide in front of her.

"Unto the breach," Frederick murmured quietly to the bride.

She replied with a confident smile, and she took her first step. Towards the altar, towards becoming queen, and towards becoming a wife. Towards Chrom, who had stood to face her and whose face reminded her of everything she loved in this world.

She looked ahead, she looked at him, she held a bit tighter to Frederick's arm and saw the Shepherds' smiles in her peripheral, and all her doubts and fears disappeared once and for all.

This would, in the future, be referenced as the happiest day of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little call back to what Frederick told Chrom at the beginning of the chapter there in that last line. Don't know if that's able to be caught. Also the reference to my first chapter, which I'd been feeling hadn't quite been fitting in with the rest.
> 
> I mentioned in one of the Emmeryn chapters that I always saw Frederick as more of a semi-father figure in the Ylissean palace, especially for Lissa. I tried to extend that dynamic of friendship and kind of.. authority? Respect? Idk. In any case, father-in-law-ness to Robin.
> 
> Man, romance is not my strong suit. Especially not when I'm half-lucidly correcting it at 2 AM. But with the crazy work hours, this is unfortunately about the only time I've got T.T


	15. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick chapter to fill the time gap between Plegia and Valm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess which author has another huge story that she's two half-written scenes away from being able to update but hasn't updated in almost three months, has as good as no free time, and who's still spending her spare minutes writing other works instead of fulfilling her social obligations and doing other general things she should be doing!
> 
> This author right here!

**Training**

* * *

The moment Chrom walked onto the training grounds it started a wave. First, the Shepherds closest to the door saw him in their peripheral, lowering their swords to greet him for the first time in months. Then those next to them wanted to see what their allies were getting so excited about. Before he knew it, Chrom was the center of the whole camp's attention and the subject of every excited call.

"Chrom!"

"Chrom's back!"

"Look! It's the captain!"

He smiled graciously and bowed his head a bit in embarrassment as he became flooded with greetings, handshakes, and pats on the back. He hadn't expected such a scene! After all, it had only been... was it four months already since he'd visited the garrison for training? Between setting the final stages of the Ylissean Restoration into movement, the diplomatic trip to Ferox a couple moths prior and the final months of his wife's pregnancy, time seemed to have passed him by. 

As the chatter in the camp grew louder, he felt a strong hand clamp down on his open shoulder. Vaike stood close to his side, jostling him back and forth with a teasing grin on his face.

"Back up and at 'em, eh?" the fighter near yelled over Chrom's startled grunt. "Couldn't wait to get back to some one-on-one with ol' Teach, couldja?"

Chrom let out a begrudging chuckle. Never would he have imagined a day where he'd feel so glad to be annoyed by Vaike again, and yet here he found himself, a smile on his face and a hand clapping his boyhood friend on the back. It seemed absence truly did make the heart grow fonder.

"Loathe as I am to admit it..."

At that moment, Stahl passed by with an iron lance in hand and sweat on his brow. His familiar smile, however, was present as ever. He raised his hand in a curt wave as he greeted his captain. "Hey, Chrom!" he said chipperly as he passed by. "Good to have you back. And congratulations on becoming a father!"

Vaike left Chrom's side to join the knight, claiming Stahl owed him a rematch from some earlier scuffle, before Chrom replied.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, speaking over Vaike's smack talk. "It feels good to be back, Stahl." And it did.

He had been ecstatic at the birth of Lucina; it had been a week and he was still riding the wave of joy she'd brought with her. Truth be told, he hadn't been eager to leave the palace and his daughter's side. However, he was glad now to have taken his sister's suggestion to get some fresh air. The sounds of clashing blades, a yell here and there, the heat and the energy and the feeling of belonging – in his place as commander and in his place among his friends as an equal – were all things he'd dearly missed the past four months.

Becoming king - even if he still insisted on being called prince - had been a trial, no doubt. There were days where it was all too easy to forget just who he was. Without a free moment to connect with his friends, to pick up the sword and train -  _truly_ train, to where his blood began rushing and his muscles settling into a familiar form - he felt his years as captain of the Shepherds may have simply been a dream. That was, until he could go back to the garrison and remember just how real it all had been. Through the good and the bad, he belonged here. He was himself here.

Four months it had been... Chrom let out a sigh as a spring breeze blew through his hair, and it blew the weight from his chest away with it. From behind him, he heard the sound of clanking armor approaching, and a smile crept onto his face. He had a hunch the metal monster would find him eventually...

"Milord," came the baritone voice he knew all too well. The selfsame one he'd heard day in and day out for the past... twenty-one years, it seemed. But especially in the past two, always there to offer help and take away a burden.

Slowly, Chrom turned to face his second-in-command, the voice without which the garrison wouldn't quite feel like home.

"Frederick!" he exclaimed kindly. He was glad to see the massive suit of blue armor once more, the tailored vest and trousers the knight wore while working in the palace always seeming off somehow. Seeing him back in gear and in the garrison felt like seeing a griffon back in its natural habitat. Teasingly, Chrom tacked on, "How odd it is to see you here, of all places."

"I should say the same of you," Frederick replied. The slight twitch of his lips indicated more humor than his serious voice was capable of. "It's a relief to see you back, milord. I expect I'll be seeing you for some remedial training sessions?"

Chrom's stomach sank at the thought, for he knew still from childhood that a stroll through the hells could be easier than a mere hour of Frederick's lessons. The knight had a keen eye for detail that could pick out each flaw and a demon in him that wielded a lance like no other. Blood, sweat, trembling muscles...

Nothing sounded better.

"But of course!" Chrom let out a chuckle. "I'll need you to whip me back into shape. And no going easy on me!"

"You say that as though I've ever gone easy on you, milord."

A beat of lingering laughter followed before Chrom took a few steps back to the garrison's doorway. Leaning in, he swiped a wooden practice sword from a stand propped up next to the open doorframe, the holders half empty from all the weapons in use. He tossed it around in his hand a bit, adjusting his grip, and was pleasantly reminded just how good the wooden notches felt on his skin.

Frederick continued their conversation as the prince focused on his sword. 

"Shall I count on Lady Robin joining us as well in time?"

Before Chrom even got the chance to answer, to tell him she'd be needing her rest but eventually she would join them, a more feminine voice piped up from behind him and took the wind straight from his sails.

"Most definitely!" 

Chrom whipped around, knowing at once who the voice belonged to, but not quite believing his ears.

"Robin?"

The Shepherds echoed her name behind him as they laid eyes on her, much as they had when he had entered. Lo and behold, in front of him stood his wife, wooden sword in hand and the defiant smile on her lips that she wore when she knew her tactics were going right. Rather than address him, she chose to brush past him, simply waiting for him to speak out at her.

"And honestly, Frederick, the title is unnecessary." She busied herself with examining her training sword before placing a hand on the knight's shoulder. "I understand in the palace, but here, I am simply the tactician again. I would feel much more comfortable if you would address me as you used to."

"Apologies, my l- Ah..." Frederick caught himself with a clearing of his throat, even a hint of a chuckle. Correcting himself, he couldn't withhold a small bow of the head. "It's easy to fall into habit... _Robin_."

It was only after he'd watched their casual exchange that Chrom threw his two copper cents in. Was he the only one finding something off about a post-natal woman (the nation's queen, if they wanted to be technical) waltzing into the army's garrison just seven days after a very grueling birth?

"What are you doing here?" he asked, grabbing Robin by the shoulder and turning her to face him. While his eyes met hers with concern, it irked him more than a little that she didn't even pretend to lookappalled... "The nurses said you're supposed to be resting!"

"I've rested," she replied simply as she shrugged and drew away.

"For longer than a week!"

Frederick stepped closer to weigh in, blocking Robin's path before she could retreat as his brows furrowed. "I must agree with Lord Chrom. I quite admire your diligence, but it does a soldier no good to train in an unhealthy state. It does a  _queen_ no good to put her health at risk."

Chrom smiled, vindicated. It paid to have loyal companions...

"Oh, please. I became a mother, not an invalid." She looked her husband and her guard in their eyes with a look that made Chrom unsure if she was teasing or challenging them. "We all know I need to be here just as much as you do, Chrom."

"But-" the prince tried to protest.

"And the only way I'm going back to that castle before training is with a sword in my hand and a sparring dummy in the courtyard. And you should know, I'm not opposed to substituting the sword with a tome from the palace library, and I am _not_ opposed to substituting the dummy with certain members of the Shepherds-" She gestured with determined eyes to the men before her, pointing a finger at each of them. "Who try to keep me in bed for another dreadful instant."

Chrom couldn't come up with any words to shoot back, and Frederick seemed to have been subtly reminded that - despite preferences in the use of titles - he was speaking to a woman whose word was all but final. Both of them knew well that her stubbornness was unyielding, in the rare occasions it chose to rear its ugly head.

Gods help them all if Lucina inherited even a fraction of her parents' strong wills. She'd be nothing short of a force of nature...

To break the stunned silence came a familiar, thundering laugh from mere feet away.

"Bwehehe!" sounded sounded Gregor's rough but jovial voice. Evidently, sparring against Lon'qu wouldn't stop him from eavesdropping and throwing in some of his own sage advice. "Man has will and woman has way!"

The lingering tension dissipated as both Chrom and Robin laughed and shook their heads; it was impossible not to miss Gregor and his words of wisdom.

With a sigh and Gregor's words echoing in his head, Chrom conceded.

"You're going to be the reason my hair turns gray so early," he told Robin with a coy smile.

Robin smiled as she joyfully tightened her grip on her practice sword. She reached forward to squeeze her husband's arm, flipping her white hair to the side to make her point: "Then we'll be twins!"

"But I still want Frederick to supervise you!"

The man in question nodded dutifully, his usual serious expression on his face. "I, too, would like to watch over you. It's only prudent to put your well-being at top priority, my l- Robin."

The tactician's mouth opened, clearly indignant, probably wanting to shout at the "absurdity" of it all, but they found themselves, once again, interrupted as a suit of red armor and redder hair appeared at their sides.

"Robin!" Sully approached them, sweat on her forehead and a lance in her arms. With a smile, she threw an arm around Robin's shoulders. "Good to have ya back."

"Sully!" Robin's face lit up at the sight of her good friend. She turned and pulled the woman into a quick hug. "Just the woman I wanted to see."

Before continuing, Robin shot a glance back to her Frederick and her husband, now showing a bit more sympathy. 

Chrom stared back, worried but not beyond reason. She was a strong one and a grown woman, and he trusted that she knew her limits. And he didn't exactly want to sic Frederick on her when she clearly was just as eager to catch up with her friends as he was with his.

With a casual wave of his hand and a smile he sent them off, gladly watching as they retreated with their arms slung around each other's shoulders. But not before Robin sent a smile back his way and a firm nod, letting him know she'd be alright.

"I was thinking..." Robin's voice drifted back as she spoke excitedly to Sully. "Why don't we start that weight-loss program of ours back up? No odd plants or miracle tricks this time. Just the old-fashioned way!"

"Haha! That baby weight isn't gonna lose itself, huh?"

Chrom chuckled. He'd definitely need to spend some time catching up with Sully later...

"So," began Frederick once they'd been left alone. Laying a hand on the wooden lance strapped to his back, he lead into the main event of their day. "I believe we wanted to start brushing up your skills again?"

"Of course," replied Chrom. But there was still one thing he had to do... "But I promised Vaike a sparring match first."

He shot a glance to the fighter, currently in the midst of weaving around Stahl and dodging the jabs from the latter's lance. His taunts were floating across the entire camp as Stahl began to look more and more frustrated. It was a feeling Chrom knew all to well -- a cross between intense annoyance and extreme amusement. He'd missed that feeling.

He'd missed all of it.

Ah, yes. It was good to be back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed after searching the scripts that Frederick will only refer to Robin as "milady" in A.) their S-Support and B.) the final chapter. 
> 
> I figure he probably does in the palace, since she's technically his liege and queen there, but otherwise, I feel like it'd be awkward for them both if he'd always referred to her by her name before when she was just tactician and then suddenly got all formal.


	16. You deserved better from me than one sword...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This gets pretty "by the game", but I was always really disappointed between Lucina and her mother's first meeting.

**You deserved better from me than one sword...**

* * *

"My daughter..."

"Yes, Robin. Your daughter."

Lucina had known convincing her mother of her identity would be the hard part. Father had always had the kind heart of the pair -- just like Aunt Lissa, just like Owain and Morgan. She'd never doubted that he'd accept her with anything but open arms if she told him who she was. Running into his arms like she was a child wasn't what she'd had in mind, but in hindsight, his reaction was less than shocking -- folding his arms around her and holding tight. Just like when she was a child.

But it was her mother to remind her that there really was a child still in the picture. And it was not Lucina. Not this one at least. 

This Lucina had already had a life with her mother. She'd grown up with her strong principles, her words of wisdom. She'd grown up seeing her realism -- turning away royal fortune-tellers, performing alongside Father in religious ceremonies dutifully but never enthusiastically. Lucina's mother had loved logic, reason, planning, and this version of her was surely no different.

And yet here stood the Lucina of another world, telling her other mother that she had traveled back in time with the help of a god. That she was here to change fate, to prove destiny wrong. Her whole story was one of desperation and divine intervention; no logic, no reason, no planning.

Standing under her mother's scrutinizing gaze, Lucina waited with bated breath. Her mother's pursed lips, her furrowed brow... After more than three years away from her, she found she had forgotten such things, but it all came rushing back to her now. Mother sitting on the other side of a chessboard, the same look on her face as she calculated her next move, her daughter feeling a growing sense that she was about to lose once more, the sound of a bishop being lifted and moved and her mother's voice:

_"Check."_

Lucina didn't know how much longer she could bear her mother's eyes analyzing her with such a lack of familiarity. She so desperately wanted Robin to like her...

"You've grown into such a strong and beautiful woman," said Robin after after a deep breath. She still sounded only halfway present. "Chrom and I are truly blessed."

Her heart leaped in her chest. A slight rushing noise began to run through her ears, and she knew not if it was from her blood pumping faster or simply from the stream next to them. Her chest tightened, her eyes faintly began to sting just as they had moments before with her father. Was Robin starting to believe her?

"Thank you," she replied, trying to keep her voice calm. Her mother stayed so still, almost unnervingly so. "...milady."

She threw the last word in clumsily, unsure of just how familiar she should be. Robin hadn't given her any indication yet of just how she wanted to be treated by this girl before her -- her daughter, but not really... Lucina knew there was a chance she'd be more attached to her baby, more estranged from the grown version of her. She tried to keep herself mature and collected, just as she always had, as though it wouldn't hurt her just a bit to be turned away.

Just as she heard her father take in a breath from behind her to speak in his daughter's defense, a short, clean laugh came from Robin's lips, silencing him. She finally smiled and shed a layer of the uncertainty she'd been wearing.

"Will you not call me Mother?" she asked kindly, the cold stare of her eyes at last beginning to thaw.

Her mother's laugh was another thing that Lucina hadn't realized she'd forgotten until now. It comfortably rushed back to her, like hearing a song she'd loved but had forgotten the words to.

Her heart was soaring, a spark of hope in her eyes that she tried to wrestle down. She wouldn't let herself get too excited yet only to be disappointed. She said slowly, guardedly, "I... thought you might mind."

All she wanted was something,  _anything_ certain to give her a sign that Robin really saw her, really wanted her as a daughter. Something to give her the okay to rush into her arms. Her father's apology to her when she told him who she was had come as a great relief, having been struggling to hold herself back. She was finding herself looking for something similar now.

"Of course not!" replied Robin. Lucina's heart beat faster yet. "I love you with all my heart."

And there it was. All she'd needed to hear. All she'd wanted to hear again for three years. Her mother saw her for who she was, and now it meant the most to hear her say she loved her.

Lucina felt the stinging in her eyes morph and overflow, tears welling in her eyes. Her mother's figure before her became blurred, but she could still make out the familiar beaming smile she'd longed to see for too many years. "Oh, Mother..."

She took a step towards her mother, tentatively so as to judge her reaction. When Robin took a step towards her too, Lucina could hold herself back no longer.

_"Come here, darling,"_ the smile seemed to say, just as it had so many times in the past.  _"Everything will be alright. I'm here."_

Her arms were lighter than her father's. They didn't squeeze her shoulders as tightly when she ran into them, but rather caught her gently around her waist as her tears began to fall. She felt a head rest against her own as she rested her cheek on a familiar purple cloak.

"You are the finest daughter a woman could hope for, Lucina."

Her words were touching and a joy to hear, but they meant so much less to Lucina than the arms holding her close. This was what she'd wanted since seeing them for the first time in this world, and since seeing them for the last in her own.

"Mother..." She had been so lonely. She had worn her tiara atop her head and Falchion at her side and told herself these gifts from her parents were their presence staying with her. But those small reminders of them were nothing in comparison to seeing their faces and hearing them say her true name once more. Even after everything had gone to the hells, to have been given a second chance to savor a moment like this once more was nothing short of the greatest miracle the gods could've given her. "I've missed you more than you'll ever know."

"I am so sorry I left you to face that hell on your own," her mother whispered with sorrow, raising her hand to stroke Lucina's hair. "You deserved better from me."

It had truly been hell on earth when her parents left, and she'd spent many nights wishing they could come back and help her. But above all else, all she wanted through those terrible nights was to see their faces once more. All she wanted was one more glimpse of them to take strength in, to remind her of the warriors she was born to. 

She'd tried to be strong through it all, always pushing through whatever challenge she was faced with and never giving up. All in the hope that one day, everything would be alright again. Landing in her mother's arms again was beyond her wildest dreams, but it seemed all the years of holding everything together had paid off. The struggle wasn't over, but for all she'd done already, this moment was a more than worthy reward.

"Just seeing you now is more than enough."

Before she knew it, another set of arms had taken her and her mother into a hug. Her father stood at her back and pulled the family together.

How she had missed the strength in their arms, the kindness in her father's eyes, the wisdom in her mother's voice. She'd never dreamed she'd truly see them again, and when she did at last lay eyes on them, she thought speaking with them as she was now would remain a pipe dream for as long as she was in this world. Being wrapped in their arms like this, feeling so safe and whole again... only in her most childish dreams would she have imagined she could have her family back like this. Now only one person was missing...

_Oh, Morgan,_ thought Lucina as she tightened her grip on her mother.  _Didn't we wish so many nights in a row for just this? You'd never believe me if I could find you and tell you it's coming true..._

And yet there they stood, the three of them together as the sun rose. The longer she stayed, the more real it became to her, and the more real it became, the more she longed to never let it go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took some stuff from the Future Past DLC (damn good material in there) there at the end. Also the tiara thingy from the Drama CD ;)


	17. The Vaike never forgets! I just don't always remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last shipping fluff for Gen 1 before the children start coming into play

 

**The Vaike never forgets! I just don't always remember.**

* * *

 

Lissa, Cherche, and Vaike sat around a wooden crate turned into a table on the edge of their makeshift camp, Chrom standing behind his sister's shoulder with his arms crossed as the four of them took their afternoon break. The setup was less than ideal, but Port Ferox had been all but completely destroyed. The army still needed  _somewhere_  to stay and train while they awaited the Plegian ships.

"You two knuckleheads are both so competitive-" Lissa complained to Chrom and Vaike as she had her mouth stuffed full of rice, the day's lunch. Even in times of desperation where food was simple, Lissa never seemed to eat less than her fair share. And the shares of a few others.

"What'd we talk about, Squirt? C'mon," Vaike interrupted, a mildly disappointed look on his face. "Either  _eat_ or  _talk._ "

The princess continued without hesitation. "-You don't even realize you're each other's  _best. Friends!"_ She gestured with her spoon between Vaike and her brother as her cheeks puffed out and words became muffled. It was clear Cherche was trying to hold back an unpleasant reaction.

"It's like I told our girl Cherche here, right?" Vaike grabbed the maid by the shoulder and jostled her back and forth. She smiled, though looked taken aback nonetheless. Her hands remained clasped in her lap. "It's just mutual respect! Mutual respect when ya fight a guy! Am I right, Chrom?"

Lissa seemed unamused by the answer as a frown appeared on her face. Vaike's rival himself had little time to reply before being interrupted by a new voice.

"I hate to interrupt the fun," the group heard a tired woman from behind them. Turning towards the main part of the camp in town, they laid eyes on Robin approaching them, leaving the bustling soldiers behind her. Bags mirroring those of the other soldiers were under her eyes, and her eyes blinked heavily as she rested her hands on the table next to Lissa and Chrom.

With a voice voice betraying extremely thin patience, Robin asked wearily, "But would  _anyone_ care to tell me why Olivia has been hiding behind Frederick's back since this morning?"

Vaike let out a chortle as he rested his elbows on the table. "Probably something to do with Frederick's little 'questionnaire' last night," he said with a flourish at the end. Robin's eyebrows raised cautiously.

"What questionnaire?" she asked as though already fearing the answer. From beside her, Chrom's blue eyes tried to catch Vaike's, silently trying to warn him to stop talking.

A plea that, unfortunately, went unnoticed.

"You know, where he asked all us guys what we think of Olivia. 'As a woman." Vaike dropped his voice and steeled his face in a spot-on impression of the Shepherd's lieutenant and royal knight. Lissa let out a small laugh, though stayed focused on her rice.

"Vaike..." Chrom groaned quietly. That man never did know when to keep his mouth shut about things, did he?

"Really?" Robin asked, pointedly turning to her husband with an expectant expression. "This is the first I'm hearing about this."

"Yes... Well..." Chrom cleared his throat, his eyes trying desperately to hold contact, and failing under the pressure of three women's expectant gazes. Of course he hadn't replied to Frederick's question with anything improper! He'd never found himself capable of speaking quite as... zealously about the women in camp as the other men seemed to do. "I just thought it best not to spread the word. You're forgetting I've been a victim of Frederick's over-enthusiasm myself! It's embarrassing to say the least."

Robin laughed, remembering a certain poster that had found its way into her tent many years ago. And the prince who stormed in – red-faced and refusing to make eye contact – to rip it down. "Oh, I haven't forgotten just yet."

Lissa made a sour face as she withdrew her spoon from her mouth which was now full of rice once more. "Hello! Eating!"

"What was this?" asked Cherche, a bit lost as the other four went on about a time long before she'd joined them.

"It was nothing, Cherche," Lissa replied shortly.

Robin continued quietly, driving the conversation back to the point. "Well I guess... Could you all do me a favor and pretend you don't see her? If she needs to hide from the embarrassment, let her. I'm sure it'll pass in a day or two."

"Plus, Frederick doesn't seem to be minding," Cherche piped in with a smile. She was right... The knight had been much more even-keeled for the past few days.

"He  _has_ been in a particularly good mood," mused Chrom, with a glace toward his guardian. Behind a mass of armor, they could all see flecks of pink hair and bits of a white scarf sticking out from behind his back. Olivia was clearly not very well hidden, but her company must've been doing Frederick some good. "Well... at least by his standards."

"Ha! We should be tryin' to keep her back there if that's the case." Vaike let out a loud chuckle before pointing at Chrom. "Hey Chrom, go talk to Frederick about her hips again! That oughtta do it!"

All at once, the young lord's face turned a shade of red. In a mixture of anger and embarrassment, he sputtered, "Huh?! I-I said nothing of the sort!"

Robin and Cherche, in contrast, both began to laugh at the poor prince's expense. Only Lissa was left sitting with a faked smile on her face.

"Vaike," Robin began in a light, chastising tone. "Don't be lewd. You-..."

Suddenly, her voice drifted off along with her smile as a look appeared on her face as though she were having a large realization. She repeated his name once, twice, before gasping and remembering what had been on the tip of her tongue.

"You were supposed to meet Lon'qu for sword training at noon!" she shouted, eyes wide and voice disapproving. "How could you have forgotten that?"

"Hey!" Vaike jumped to his own defense, though shrinking under the tactician's gaze ever-so-slightly. "The Vaike never forgets! I just-"

"-don't always remember.' I know; I've heard. Now get up. Go!" Robin nudged the man up by his shoulder armor, visibly trying to refrain from smacking him a bit harder. Up he went and made his way to the center of camp to receive his lessons, albeit fifteen to twenty minutes late. "…You big oaf."

The four of the remaining Shepherds on break watched their friend leave, disappearing into the crowd of soldiers before Robin redirected her attention to Cherche. She smiled at the newcomer kindly. "Cherche, I hope you're not too deterred from our company by the likes of him," she teased. "We all want you to feel welcome here."

"Oh, don't worry, milady," the woman replied kindly. "Lord Virion has kept me in good company, and Vaike has held out a hand to me. Not to mention Lady Lissa and Lord Chrom."

Without hesitation, the two siblings jumped to correct her, echoing the words they must've said a thousand times before as though by reflex.

"Just Lissa."

"Just Chrom is fine."

The prince held up a hand politely with his answer, though Lissa wasn't quite so friendly. She seemed more annoyed than usual, her tone catching her brother off guard. His stomach began to sink, wondering just what it was that had his sister putting on her sour behavior this time. She'd been sulking throughout lunchtime too...

"Well, that's good to hear," Robin replied, glad to hear their newest member was integrating nicely.

"If you'll pardon me, I need to be getting to the stables." Cherche stood up with a polite smile from the crate she'd been sitting on, gracefully pushing it back and picking up the axe she'd had leaned against her stool. "It's about time for Minerva's lunch. Chrom, Lissa, thank you for keeping me company! You too, Robin."

The group bid Cherche a friendly goodbye before Chrom excused himself as well.

"I should be off too," he said, clasping Lissa's shoulders. From in front of him, the girl's face turned annoyed at the touch. "I have council with Frederick. And Olivia by extension, I suppose."

Discreetly, Chrom caught his wife's eyes, gesturing with his head to Lissa. Robin nodded in understanding; she would be in charge of finding out what was wrong.

"Okay," Robin replied, showing no outward signs of the silent communication she'd just had. "I'll catch up with you after I've made the rounds."

Chrom took his leave, though in a last ditch effort to cheer up his younger sister placed a hand on her head, rubbing her headpiece back and forth before lightly tugging on a pigtail as he went.

"Hey!" Lissa whined after him, a threatening frown on her face as she raised an offended hand to her hairdo.

Slowly, Robin took a seat near Lissa at the table, watching as the girl calmed down and finished her bowl of rice.

"What's the matter Lissa?" she asked after a moment, her voice gentle but firm. "You're not quite yourself today. You didn't even laugh when Vaike teased Chrom! You normally love that!"

Upon receiving no response but lowered eyes and the scraping of Lissa's spoon in her bowl as she fiddled with her dishes, Robin pried further. "Is it because of how they talked about Olivia?"

"No..." replied Lissa quietly. "Though that wasn't so great either."

"Is it Frederick? Are you jealous he's spending more time with Olivia and not you? I know you had those relaxation sessions going with him."

"Well, I am now!" Lissa whined, her shoulders slumping as her face became even more irritated and upset.

"Lissa, I'm just trying to help!" Robin pleaded with the girl. She hadn't intended to make things worse, though that seemed to be all she was doing. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just hate to see you so down."

The young princess seemed to think her reply over for a long moment, her eyes rolling back and forth as she mulled over the option of staying silent. When she finally decided to speak, her voice was hushed and her eyes downcast. "I... I don't like Cherche."

Robin was a bit taken aback. She thought they'd been getting along! "Why not? Has she been unkind to you?"

The new maid seemed to be on perfectly civil terms with Lissa a moment ago. Why, if she'd been trying to tyrannize the poor girl while no one was looking... Perhaps Sully could be recruited to keep an eye on Cherche. And to put the fear of the gods in her.  _That_ would teach her to trifle with Lissa!

"No," Lissa replied, settling Robin's heart and negating the rapidly-building worries in her mind. The young girl continued, her voice growing more and more annoyed. "She's just so...  _foreign_  and she walks around on her  _legs_ like she's _soooo_ amazing and so interesting and 'Vaike just loved riding on Minerva!' 'Vaike and I have so much fun together, Lady Lissa!' You know, I've asked her to stop calling me that before and-"

"It's about Vaike." Robin smiled knowingly as it finally dawned on her just what was spurring this sour streak in her sister-in-law. "You're jealous."

"No!" Lissa denied defensively. Her hands gripped the sides of her rice bowl tighter as she lowered her eyebrows, her stubborn look reminiscent of her brother's.

"Yes," Robin contradicted, a knowing smile growing on her face. "I've seen you two. I've seen  _you_."

She'd always seen Vaike and Lissa bickering like siblings and felt a dynamic of the same type with them. However, the times Lissa had blushed when Vaike rubbed her head or joked with her, the times she'd watched him intently during his sparring matches hadn't gone unnoticed to the tactician ether.

"Is it that obvious?" Lissa asked miserably, her voice quiet as her body sank lower in its seat.

"Probably not," replied Robin reassuringly. "It's just my job to observe you all, so I've known for a long while you've had a crush on him."

"Shh! Not so loud!" Lissa waved her hands toward Robin to quiet her down, not keen on the entire camp hearing her situation. "I haven't liked him for that long. Just... well, when I was a kid, he was always so big and strong and loud and... he was different from all the other boys I knew. He never made me feel bad for not behaving like a princess. He and I even got in a mud fight once! Frederick was so angry..."

A whisper of Lissa's familiar, cheerful laugh accompanied a small smile on her face. She paused, a bit quiet and thinking about something or other, and Robin waited as she eventually grew pensive and upset again.

"We're really good friends now, and I can see he's really nice, Robin! He's so considerate, and he's got such a big heart!" The words were happy ones, but Lissa seemed to whine them, and frustration was clear in her voice. "But he probably just thinks of me like a little sister. I just..."

Robin waited patiently as Lissa collected her thoughts.

"Everyone has someone now. Stahl and Cordelia just got married, and Frederick is probably in love with Olivia, and you and Chrom just had a baby. And I'm so happy for you two -- for all of you! But..." She broke off her words once more before leaning her head back with a frustrated groan. "Why does this have to be so hard? Everyone else jut falls in love, and that's that! Why doesn't that work for me?"

Robin let out an incredulous laugh. "You don't seem to be seeing just how complicated it was for everyone else," she explained. "You remember how in love Cordelia was with your brother before noticing Stahl, don't you? Frederick, I'm willing to bet, still has no idea that Olivia has been staring at him ever since she joined us  _two years ago._ And as for Chrom and me..."

She thought back to their first meeting, their bickering matches during meetings, their awkward run-ins, how wrong she felt having feelings for her commander, how long it took either of them to admit there was anything deeper to their friendship. It was no easy road to where they were now, that was for certain.

"Chrom didn't even see me as a woman when we first met!" She remembered well being told that she was neither perfumed, proper, nor pretty like the ladies of the nobility.

"What?" Lissa squawked. "No, he told me he knew from the moment he saw you that..."

The princess' voice trailed off at the sight of Robin's unwavering gaze, her eyebrow arched without amusement. She gasped, scandalized.

"He lied to me?!"

"Of course! Love is never so simple as having a feeling," replied Robin with a chuckle. She thought back to something she'd heard from a friend once. "Now, I don't claim to be the expert, but I've heard Virion say more than once that 'love is flower! It needs time to bloom, time to grow, and much nurturing in order to flourish!'"

"Haha! You do a good Virion." A true smile spread across Lissa's face at Robin's melodramatic Rosanne accent.

Her mood lightened considerably at that. The tension atmosphere seemed to float away as Lissa's cheery smile lit up the table around her. Softly and now more peacefully than before, she asked, "So... I just need to wait, then?"

"Exactly. And when the time is right, one of you will get up the courage to fess up to your feelings." Robin lay a hand on Lissa's arm comfortingly, looking her reassuringly in the eyes. "And I am  _certain_ there are feelings on his side too. The way he talks about you, I'd bet the royal treasury on it."

Lissa blushed, her eyes lingering on her empty rice bowl. But she said nothing.

"I'll tell you what," Robin began with resolve, a plan already forming in her mind. "What would you say to me rearranging the partners for the next battle, hm?"

That immediately got Lissa's attention. Her head snapped up with worry as she began to fret, "I don't want it to be too obvi-"

"I'm not promising anything!" Robin interrupted, maintaining the act of being aloof. She knew better than to think Lissa would outright  _ask_ to be paired with Vaike – or for him to be separated from Cherche – so hearing it come from the tactician instead would be best. "But... it does seem to be a bit overkill, doesn't it? Two axe wielders and a wyvern all together? I think Cherche would be much better off with someone like Lon'qu to keep things balanced out. But who does that leave to protect you during battle...?"

Robin feigned contemplation as she looked her sister-in-law up and down. Lissa evidently liked the idea, and was thankful for having her dignity spared through not having to request the change herself. She slid over from her crate over to Robin's and place her arms around the woman's neck.

"Thank you, Robin," she said as she placed a small kiss on her cheek."You know, Lucina's really lucky to have you as a mom; you're gonna be great once she gets older! Or... now, with grownup Lucina, I guess."

Robin blushed and thanked Lissa in return. She certainly hoped what she was saying was true!

As Lissa stood to make her way back to camp, she added on one more thing: "Oh and Robin? Please don't tell Chrom, yeah? You know he'd rip Vaike's head straight off!"

Robin laughed as she joined Lissa at her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, I know. Your secret's safe with me."

Though she knew Lissa was over-exaggerating, she also knew she had a point. Chrom already was put on edge when Lissa teased or flirted with the other boys or went on about how attractive one man or another was. She could only imagine how he'd react to hearing on such man wanted to take his little sister from him.

_Gods be with the poor boy Lucina falls in love with. He's already so protective of Lissa; the one to take his daughter will be chopped to bloody bits._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vaike x Lissa makes the most sense to me from an Owain standpoint, what with self-proclaiming rivals and third person speak and whatnot. Even if MaleRobin!Owain wil forever be my canon.


	18. Don't you put any stock in this destiny hogwash!

**Don't you put any stock in this destiny hogwash!**

* * *

 

The second Lucina's boots left the air and hit the deck of the safety ship, she rolled to the ground and covered her head with her arms. The sound of waves suddenly became drowned out by a deafening explosion that seemed to come from all around. Her eyes squeezed shut, she felt water spray across her back, and the wooden planks of the ship began to rock violently as the waves tossed the vessel to and fro.

The sound of the explosion grew quieter. As the wind carried it away, a crackling sound replaced it, and the smell of smoke reached her nose. Tentatively, she released her arms from around her head and slowly opened her eyes, sitting up to see...

An entire sea ablaze. The entire Valmese fleet was burning to a crisp!

"It worked!" Frederick exclaimed with shock and relief from nearby. "It actually worked!"

The other Shepherds cheered, some even laughing with relief. Lucina looked to the ship's taffrail where Khan Flavia placed an arm on her mother's shoulder, jostling her goodheartedly and praising her work. Mother let out a few post-anxious breaths, a smile growing on her face; they'd actually done it!

From Lucina's side, Severa - who had been found shortly before departing from Ferox - rose to her feet. With a flip of her pigtails, she lowered a hand down to Lucina, which the latter took graciously. 

"Jeez," Severa uttered as she pulled the princess to her feet. Her eyes were still lost in the sights around their ship as well. Smoldering warships, red waves, all where a battle had been taking place not moments before - it was quite a sight to behold, indeed. "Who knew your mom was such a maniac?"

The words took Lucina by surprise, but Severa was right. It seemed her mother's methods could be just as... unconventional as others had said. An idea such as burning half of your own fleet to catch the enemy in the fire was a card no other leader would've dared to play. It was risky, reckless even, but they'd won against all odds. She could understand a bit more why Morgan found tactics so compelling, now!

Before she had a chance to voice this thought, though, Cordelia's pegasus landed behind the two young girls, the pegasus knight come to check on her daughter.  Lucina took this, and Severa's moaning and groaning about being doted on, as her window to excuse herself. She set her sights on her parents and made her way to their sides.

Both her mother and father were still engaged in conversation with Khans Flavia and Basilio, so she quietly approached her father's side. Patiently, she gripped the wood of the guardrail and listened as they discussed how to proceed.

"We must continue on," said her father with a determined gaze. "And seize control of their main harbor."

Basilio jumped in heartily, "Aye, boy! I've had enough of the smoke and smell here for one lifetime, besides." His nose crinkled unpleasantly as batted a wisp of smoke passing his nose.

"Full speed for Valm!" Chrom commanded a soldier waiting near him, who promptly ran off towards the bridge, leaving Lucina a place at his side.

"Father!" She exclaimed with a smile, excitedly clasping the rim of the ship next to him. "I can't believe you and Mother did this! This is incredible! I mean, I had heard about this day before..."

In Lucina's future, this battle had been merely partially victorious. The war in Plegia had continued for so much longer than it had in this timeline; therefore, their resources had been dwindled to almost nothing, ships and oil included. The Ylissean fleet could only be offered far less, and they were only able to wipe out a portion of the Valmese ships. The rest had had to be fought off man-to-man, resulting in many more casualties.

"But  _this_..." She couldn't even find the words. All of the war Lucina had experienced had been desperate chaos, and most of all it had been overwhelming losses. A victory like this – especially one in a fight they were destined to barely make it out of – gave her such a feeling of pride and hope like she'd never before had the pleasure of feeling. She'd calmed herself down and tried to match the stoicism on the four adults' faces around her, but inside she felt positively exhilarated.

"Haha, the credit goes all to your mother," Chrom replied, a smirk growing on his face as he turned to his wife. "Let's just hope she keeps this up when we dock in Valm!"

Robin chuckled, her eyes still taking in her victory laid out before her. "You know I will," she said, too lost in thought to worry about the (well-warranted) arrogance in her words.

Lucina was just as bewildered as her mother was. "All I've ever known about this battle was that we were almost wiped out. We were destined to fail, but you turned the tides, Mother."

"I think you mean  _burned_ the tides," Flavia laughed from Robin's side.

"It's like I said earlier," Robin began with a proud smirk. "We're not pawns of some scripted fate."

"Anything can change," said Chrom, placing a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder.

He smiled down at her with a nod. The look in his eyes was a familiar one to her, full of reassurance and confidence. Growing up, that look had been enough to assure her of absolutely anything. If her father was confident, she would be too.

"Exactly," Basilio's voice boomed from behind them. Lucina felt an arm jostle her and rub the top of her head, to her slight discomfort. "Don't you put any stock in this destiny hogwash! You're not in the future anymore, kid. This is  _our_ world, and we'll all be damned if it ends up like that hellhole you left."

Though the West Khan's words were a bit brash, Lucina felt an exhilaration at hearing them. As she stood by her parents' sides, watching with them with pride as the sea burned, her heart beat faster and felt so much lighter. Along with adrenaline, there was another feeling that coursed through her veins: Hope. And she had her parents, who stood before her tall and proud like heroes, to thank for that.

"I hope you're right," she said calmly, though fighting the smile off her face was near impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like   
> A. Lucina never talks about/admires her mother enough (and she should because her mom kicks ass no matter who you pick - 'cept the maiden) and   
> B. Her idolization of her dad is actually a pretty cute dynamic, especially for a grown girl who is otherwise so strong


	19. I carry only the finest!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meandering chapter in which Lucina bonds with Frederick and with Robin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frederick was totally old enough to have been there to raise Lucina up from a baby. I love that he could totally be like a second dad.

 

**Ｏｉ ｋｅｒｒｙ ｏｕｎｌｙ ｔｈｅ ｆｏｉｎｅｓｔ**

* * *

 

 

Frederick stood near the open fire of the forge, laying out a newly improved bronze sword for Henry to cool. Lucina had to wonder if he wasn't getting too hot in all that armor...

She twirled the rapier in her hand once or twice as she watched from a distance. Her blade really had seen better days, she thought with disappointment. She'd received it as a gift from one of the noble houses for her thirteenth birthday, and she hadn't used it much until the last couple of years. It showed signs of scratches and scrapes all over, testaments to the passage of time and the slaying of too many to count.

Father, while shopping for supplies, had told her to bring the blade to Frederick for repairs at the forge, and it looked as though he'd now finished up with Henry's blade. It was her turn.

The hot air from the forge fire washed over her face as she approached the royal knight. She sidestepped a stone bench just a couple feet from the anvil, blade clutched a bit nervously in her hand. She hadn't spoken to Frederick properly in so long...

"Ahem, excuse me..." she politely caught his attention. But she faltered at the end. How was she to address him?

As a child, she'd been taught to treat Frederick as family, though a very respected family member for sure. He, Olivia, and Inigo had always been present in the castle, and she'd grown rather close to the family throughout her childhood. Now, Frederick barely knew her, so simply calling him by name was too familiar. "Uncle" had been too familiar even when she was a child, though to call him Sir seemed painfully formal. Calling her mother "milady" had been embarrassing enough...

"Ahem, Frederick." She settled, disappointed, on using only his name. With both hands, she held up her rapier. "My father told me to take this blade to you for repairs."

"Certainly, milady." Frederick reached out and took the rapier off her hands, inspecting it just as her father had moments before.

"Please, just Lucina is quite alright."

"Very well." His tone was kind, but Lucina still felt uncomfortable.

It seemed she was still getting used to treating those she'd been so familiar with as though she'd not known them her whole life. As though the man before her hadn't watched over her throughout her childhood, been the one to bandage her up when she took spills on the paths in the gardens and sewed up the consequential holes she made in her dresses. Although, in fairness, it was not  _this_ Frederick who'd done all that. That Frederick was long gone...

"It's top heavy, as well as damaged," Frederick stated, snapping her out of her reverie as he tilted the rapier in his hand back and forth. "Would you like for me to even it out a bit?"

Lucina managed a smiled, glad just to hear the tiniest bit of familiarity slip into her old guardian's voice as he spoke more than two words at once to her.

"If it's not a problem!"

"Not at all." He smiled a smile she'd grown familiar with as a child - small but kind, and she realized that perhaps  _that_ Frederick, from her time, wasn't so far away at all.

* * *

Quite a few minutes passed and Lucina waited patiently on one of the stone benches as Frederick heated the tip of her rapier in the forge.

The bustling sounds of shopping picked up as Chrom, Robin, Libra, and Henry went through the shelves of the armory behind her looking for supplies. Lucina turned and watched with curiosity as Henry flipped through some tomes, summoning small auras around him here and there. She had always found magic so fascinating, and she had fond memories from her very young years of watching her mother practice spellcasting.

The sound of metal being struck whipped Lucina back around in her wooden stool. Her rapier lay on an anvil now as Frederick fixed it up with a hammer.

"Thank you again for doing this, Frederick," she spoke up as he took a pause.

"My pleasure. A keen weapon can make or break a knight," he said simply, wiping his brow before continuing. "Are you familiar with forging weapons?"

"No, sir, I can't say that I am," answered Lucina, raising her voice over the banging. "We always left that job to the blacksmiths in town."

Frederick lifted her blade off the anvil, looking it up and down with scrutiny before giving it another bang or two of the hammer. Finally, he deemed it worthy and sat the hammer down before replying. 

"Ah, but see, you can't trust the blacksmiths," he said, something akin to humor in his voice. "The best way to perfect a weapon to your liking is to forge it yourself. Or have it forged by someone who knows your fighting style."

"Which is why you're in charge of the army's forging?" It was less of a question and more a realization. Frederick did observe almost all the Shepherds' training, even her own.

"Precisely." For the second time that day, Frederick smiled at her. A small one, but a comfort that reminded her of home nonetheless. She remembered him fondly from her time, him having always been the one to keep her busy and teach her valuable lessons when her parents were occupied or away. His family had become a second family of sorts for her and Morgan.

After sinking the sword in cold water to cool it off, Frederick handed it back to her.

"Here," he said kindly. "I also took the liberty of narrowing the point to a sharper tip. With a precise arm such as yours, such a point can find a kink in any armor. The bane and nightmare of a knight." He ended on a more humorous note, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Thank you, s...Un...Mi..." Lucina stuttered on his title again, but managed to calm herself down with a nod and a smile. "Frederick."

"A pleasure. And if I may, I suggest you take a small cloth soaked in a concoction to the pas d'Ane and the quillons. It will restore the lost luster to their metal."

"I will! Thank you."

Something about his doting advice and unusual attention to detail seemed definitely reminiscent of Lucina's past, and it made her smile.

* * *

Roughly ten minutes later, Lucina waited near the counter with her rapier, watching as her father mediated a discussion between Libra and Henry over concoctions, his patience growing visibly thin at the dark mage's morbid suggestions for alternative 'healing' methods. Her mother perused a rack of charms and talismans and ignored the fuss.

From the corner of the counter, a pile of tomes caught Lucina's eye. They appeared to have been discarded or on discount, as they looked to be of the lower grade she recognized from Morgan's bookshelves when he was younger. Slowly, she lifted a finger up to the cover of the book on top. A silver flame lay on the cover, which she carefully cracked open with her index finger. 

"Something catch your eye?"

Lucina wheeled around with a gasp, startled to see her mother peering over her shoulder. The tome cover fell shut with a soft thud. "Oh...no. I was just-"

"That's a Dying Blaze. Good condition, too. An original from Ferox," Robin commented, pulling the tome Lucina had been eyeing off the pile. She flipped through its pages with interest. "Did I ever teach you how to read tomes?"

"You tried. I can't say I was ever the particularly talented one when it came to magic," Lucina replied, knowing her brother was always the one with a higher strength of mind. Though she hadn't meant to allude to him to her mother. Thankfully she caught herself quick enough to correct her slip up. " _A_ particularly talented one."

Robin seemed to let her gaze linger on her daughter a moment longer than was normal, finding the 'slip of the tongue' a bit odd, but choosing to let it go.

"Hm. I could still teach you now if you like," she offered. Lucina hesitated in replying, so Robin continued. "Don't worry, I wouldn't take away from your sword practice, and you could still wield Falchion."

Lucina knew her mother wielded both tomes and a sword as well, so clearly it was possible. She just doubted she would have much success with the former... She had always been better with the physical side of fighting, but when it came to powers of the mind such as healing and magic, she'd never been quite gifted.

"Don't feel like you have to," Robin continued, wanting to make sure her daughter didn't feel forced. "But I'd be more than happy to have a new protege now that Lissa's doing fine on her own."

Robin had taken Lissa under her wing to train her in wind magic, a process that had taken a good six months to get her fluent in casting them (she suspected it would've taken longer had she not received basic training from Lady Emmeryn as a child). Though now she would be serving as a sage, and she was more than fine on her own.

Lucina really did want to take her aunt's place... She'd been learning from her father all her life, and she'd enjoyed it. She took pride in being a lord, following in the footsteps of Ylissean kings. She was happy with the way things were, though every so often she wished she'd inherited some of her mother's magical talent. She was the daughter of one of the greatest tacticians the nation had ever seen, a genius and almost as great a leader as her father. She wanted to live up to that legacy, but...

"I'm not quite as good with tactics as you are..." Lucina admitted bashfully, but she was beginning to come around to the idea of trying to be.

"You wouldn't have to be," Robin told her honestly, her eyes already brightening at hearing her daughter coming around. "Unless you want me to tutor you there as well!"

"I think magic should be enough, for now."

'For now?' Robin visibly perked up slightly at hearing this. "So you'll do it?"

Lucina smiled at the excitement in her mother's voice. "If it's not a bother."

"Of course it isn't!" Robin's arm found it's way around her daughter's shoulder, lightly squeezing her reassuringly. "I'm always happy to share some time with you."

Mother and daughter shared a short moment arm in arm, their moods light and minds racing before Robin jumped into planning. "Now! Which kind of magic do you think you'd like to start with? Certainly not wind; that's far too meek for you. I could see you performing well with a fire tome. And of course there's always thunder, like I've been using, though it's a bit more challenging..."

Robin looked at her daughter with raised eyebrows, trying to keep a challenging look out of her eyes as she awaited an answer.

"I think I'd like to try thunder," Lucina answered confidently after a second's thought. At her mother's pleasant surprise, she proudly raised her chin and exclaimed, "I'm up to the challenge!" If she was going to do this, if she wanted to try following in her mother's footsteps, she would do it right.

"Ha! Chrom and I raised you right, it seems. Thunder it is." Robin gave a light smile before remembering another detail. "Oh, and new armor. There's far too little range of motion in what you have on now. I think I have my old tactician's cloak stuffed away somewhere in my belongings."

At the mention of her cloak, Lucina's stomach turned its first turn since this discussion began. She hadn't considered that her mother's old coat was still available. Morgan had been the one to take it in their future...

It had been far too big for him, but since she could remember he'd insisted on wearing it around. When he'd needed to be carried to bed at night, he was wrapped up in it like a blanket. When he'd gotten older and wanted to tote his books between his room and the library, those sleeves held them. It was as much his cloak as it was their mother's... Lucina didn't feel right taking it. Even if she wasn't sure her brother was coming back at all.

"Oh, you d-" She started to deny, but Robin didn't hear her in time.

"Maribelle deemed it 'unfit for royalty' because convincing Frederick to order the tailors to make me this new one." The now Grandmaster gestured to her outfit, made of a longer robe with golden trim.  "I couldn't quite make myself let go of that old cloak, though. It was all I had when I woke up... It was the cloak I joined the Shepherds in, traveled the world in, hid in when I was upset,... met your father in. I'm sure it'd fit you perfectly, if you wanted it."

Though she maintained her cool demeanor, Lucina could hear in the lilt of her voice just how much it would mean to her mother to pass down that cloak. It was true that it felt wrong to take something that was her brother's, and the thought of it made her sad and flooded her mind with memories of his face. But she didn't want to miss the chance to make her mother happy. For all she knew, Lucina was her only child and her only chance to pass such things down to, not including the baby of this world.

"I'd be honored," she said, accepting her mother's request. The smiled she donned was not easy to force as memories of a blue haired boy drowning in purple fabric plagued her mind.

"So would I, to see my old robe find such a lovely and strong new owner!" replied Robin, her eyes thinning as her cheeks raised. Her hand grazed Lucina's shoulder before picking up the thunder tome. Lucina's eyes gazed a mess of strikes and dots - runes -on the cover in black. How was one to even pronounce those letters?

"Excuse me, sir. This was on the pile with the older tomes. How can I be sure of the quality."

"I carry only the finest, madam. Guaranteed."

"So you say, but..."

Her mother went on haggling with the armorer, and she took the time to flip through the pages of the Dying Blaze she'd originally been looking at. The same runes she'd seen on the Thunder tome were all over the pages within this tome as well. Those symbols which she barely recalled how to read flooded her eyes, and she tried to recall the last time she'd ever seen such runes. It must've been... well, the last time Mother had tried to teach her magic, over a decade ago!

She let out a sigh. She'd gotten old, and this would be more challenging than she'd thought...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tactician Lucina with Falchion, Rightful King and Ignis... Now that's what I call a good time.


	20. And what if I can't? What if I'm not worthy of her ideals?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucina's little brother, who she's waited two years to see, has returned without memories. She sees it as her job to help him find them again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a bit more effort into this chapter checking official details. The courtyard windows, Morgan's non-Lucina sibling supports... phew. Hard work!
> 
> My timeline thought here is they have Severa (mentioned a couple chapters ago; since she was sorta near Port Ferox) and they turned around at the seaway to go find Naga's Tear (read: Morgan).

 

* * *

**And what if I can't? What if I'm not worthy of her ideals?**

* * *

 

"Lucina, Morgan's lost his memory. Like me."

"Oh."

Those words had chilled her blood, and as she looked down at her newly found brother, the world seemed to freeze to a halt as well.

There he stood, two years older than when she'd seen him last, trying to keep a smile on his face. He was almost as tall as she was now, his face was beginning to shape into that of a man – that of their father with their mother's nose and brown eyes. For two years she'd dreamt of this moment, of wrapping him up in her arms and seeing him safe and grown. And she'd been completely ready to do just that when saw him arrive back at the port with her parents, but the confused lack of recognition on his face mingled with fear and had halted her in her tracks.

That look hadn't been the bright smile she'd expected. It had been the look of a lost stranger.

"You must be my sister, then, huh?"

But his voice, his smile... The way he now looked at her with such optimistic expectancy was not strange to her. It was all Morgan. He seemed just the same, wasn't he? He couldn't be so true to himself without his memories, could he?

Had he truly forgotten everything? Forgotten  _her?_ All those years they spent together, those days as an orphaned prince and princess where they had to cling to one another... She could remember his ever-present optimism, his jokes, the constant presence of a book in his hand. But it didn't take her long to realize she was now the only one who did. Neither her parents nor her brother now could remember their lives together. She was an island.

"I-..." She couldn't find the words to speak to him. What could she say?

Thankfully, her father took her by the shoulder before too long, pulling her closer to his side and away from her brother. "Lucina, why don't we give Morgan and your mother some time to sort things out?"

"Yes," she replied in a stiff whisper. How odd it felt to not know how to behave in the presence of her own little brother... "Of course."

Her mother placed a hand on Morgan's back and guided him to her tent. She sent a concerned glance back at her daughter and husband as she went, both of whom stood together at a loss for words.

After Morgan and Robin disappeared from sight, Chrom finally uttered the words, "Are you alright?" His hand tightened on his daughter's shoulder, but his gaze remained ahead and pensive.

"How much of his memory is gone?" asked Lucina with a quiet voice.

"All but the memories of your mother."

Lucina's head turned to her side with surprise, gazing up at her father with a mixture of shock and worry. The knot in her stomach grew ever larger, and she felt her head begin to hurt. "He's forgotten you as well?"

"Yes..." Still, he made no eye contact with his daughter. A frown was etching itself onto his face. "It would seem so."

* * *

Later that night, Lucina found herself at a loss for sleep and wandering around the camp in the dark of night. A single candle burned from her parents' tent, and over the waves of the sea she could make out raised voices. With hesitation, the young girl quietly crept to the shadows outside their tent, though quickly realized this was not a conversation she wanted to hear.

"First Lucina and now this!"

"Chrom-"

"I failed them, Robin. I  _left_ Lucina alone,  _fifteen_  and with a whole nation in ruins on her shoulders. That's just the same as what my father did to Emmeryn. And now even  _my own son_  doesn't remember me. Some father I must've been to him!

"I failed them both."

Lucina slunk back to her room, a pit in her stomach. But a cold sort of determination grew alongside it. It seemed this would just be another hurdle her family would need to overcome, and by the gods, she'd see they did.

* * *

It took quite a few days before Lucina had adjusted to getting on with her brother, though she couldn't say she quite knew what to say to him on a moment's notice. She and her father at least seemed to be in the same boat there. Though after overhearing her parents the week before, she knew her father's lack of connection was largely due to the feeling of having failed his son. Even her mother's words of comfort couldn't completely take that feeling away.

Nonetheless, she refused to stop trying. She missed her brother, after all. She missed the talks she could have with him and the way he always knew just what to say to cheer her up. She missed a time when he wasn't so confused about who he was that he had to ask her to explain his very being to him. She missed seeing him as... himself.

And so she did the only thing she knew how to do: she made up her mind to be stubborn. She resolved one evening to visit him in an attempt to build their relationship up once more, and she would do whatever he needed of her in order to feel himself again - for her, for her father, and most importantly for Morgan himself. And who knew? Maybe he would remember something along the way.

"Morgan?" She called one evening as she knocked on the open door to his quarters. The Shepherds had boarded another ship to Valm after their detour mission to fetch Naga's Tear. In her hand, which swayed with the rocking of the ship, was a plate with one of his favorite treats she'd picked up from the kitchens.

Morgan glanced up at her from a table within, laying down a book he'd been reading in the faint light. "Oh. Hi, Lucina," he greeted her back with a familiar smile.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Lucina slipped in quietly and edged the door closed behind her.

"No, come on in! I'm just going back over those notes on what you told me about myself. I'm still holding out on the hope they'll spark some kind of memory." He had been quite insistent on hearing what his sister had to say about him, being ever ready to ask her his favorite color, pastime or food when they had a free moment. Lucina was happy to oblige as well, if not slightly off-put by the fact that he truly had lost everything.

"Heh, it's kind of crazy how much more you know about me than  _me,_ right?" He laughed clear and genuine as his eyes skimmed the pages of his notes. "Like getting five nosebleeds in one day? You'd think I'd remember something that awesome happening to me!"

Lucina let out a chuckle. "Awesome' is one word for it... It's good to see you're still as cheerful as ever. As talkative, too."

"I guess some things never change!" Morgan chuckled and smiled wide. It was a smile all his own, bigger and happier than either of his parents'. Lucina had missed it. Before she had too much time to dwell on it, however, his eyes excitedly took notice of the plate in her hand. "What's that in your hand? Was Gaius baking again?"

"Yes, I asked him to bake a few lemon cakes. Here," she extended the plate out towards her brother, taking a seat across from him in the process. "They were always your favorite."

"Thanks! Wait just a second, I'll have to write that down... Lemon cakes... lemon cakes..." He grabbed the book he'd been reading before Lucina arrived along with a quill, and he took a moment to scribble the snack under his list of favorite foods. When he'd snapped the book shut, he took the small pound cake off the plate and – after a quick examination – sunk his teeth into one of its soft, yellow corners.

"Awwww dis is incre-ible!" he moaned with chubby, cake-filled cheeks. "See, dis is what's so gread aboud habing no memories! * gulp * Every experience is like the first time."

Lucina let out a snicker at his wild manners, and in the back of her mind she noted the presence of his optimism once again. "I'm glad you like them."

"Say, do you wanna pick up where we left off with Project: Regain Morgan's Memories?" he asked, pulling his book and quill towards him once more. "You still haven't told me about any of my otherworldly superpowers that I discovered as a kid. And have clearly forgotten."

"Haha! Well, I'm sorry to disappoint, but..." Lucina began, pushing herself into another session of delving into memories. The nostalgia made her stomach burn, but she knew the past was too important to Morgan's memory - and the her mission to help him regain it - to keep to herself. After all, she was the only one capable of telling him about their family together...

…

"Oh, but there was this other time when we were swordfighting: You got so angry that I kept beating you, you began swinging your sword around like an absolute madman!" Lucina didn't know how long she'd been talking. At some point she'd gotten so wrapped up in reminiscence she couldn't seem to make herself stop once she'd started. "I'd never seen you so frustrated! Your blade put a scratch in the Sugi tree in your frenzy, and Father was absolut-..."

As her eyes met Morgan's, she realized he'd stopped taking notes, and a rather blank expression had appeared on his face. She slowed her speech to a stop before apologizing. "I'm sorry, I've been talking for a while."

"No, no! It's okay!" Morgan shook his head hurriedly, though his tone seemed quite forced. "I mean, I asked for your help, didn't I? This is all good stuff!"

"Well, yes, but it must be a bit overwhelming to hear all at once, is it not?"

"Well..." The slowing down of his brain was almost audible as his face fell and he couldn't think of a way to say it wasn't overwhelming, making it clear that his sister wasn't wrong.

"I have an idea," began Lucina, her voice calm and helpful. "Why don't you tell me what  _you_  remember about Mother? Perhaps that will be easier, and I can fill in the gaps."

"Good idea!" He tried to smile once more, but it was clear he was straining to drag up a heavy spirit. Lucina had only wanted to help him with his wish to get his memory back; she hated to see him struggle even more in spite of good intentions. "Okay, let's see... I remember her taking me to the library a lot."

"That she did." Lucina confirmed calmly, trying not to be over eager and spill out all her memories on her brother again. "You two were in there almost daily!"

"And I remember her training in the courtyard," Morgan continued. An amused smile appeared under his thoughtful eyes. "Always thunder magic, of course."

"Mhm."

"I used to be able to hear it from my room, and when she practiced at night my windows would light up on the outside like it was already morning."

Lucina thought fondly back on their bedrooms in the Ylissean Palace. They both had had rooms overlooking the courtyard, each with two arched windows through which the trees and white pillars were visible. Sunlight and moonlight alike would spill through the ornate panes, as well as flashes from familiar thunder spells in the night. Somehow, the flashes always seemed to have a comforting effect on the young princess as she tried to sleep; they had been reminders that her mother was just outside. Her brother, on the other hand...

"You were terrified of it when you were younger!"

"Yeah!" Morgan's voice almost contained relief at finally remembering something in common with his sister.

"You once ran to my room thinking it was storming," Lucina recalled, thinking back to a night when a seven-year-old burst into her room wrapped up in a panic and a bedsheet.

"Was I afraid of thunderstorms?" A quill was poised at the ready in Morgan's hand once more, ready to write down Lucina's answer in his book of notes.

"I think all children are at some point; you were normal in that respect," his sister replied kindly. Though a shadow of a smirk grew on the corners of her lips. "Though having to take refuge in your sister's room every time it stormed at night..."

"Ha..." Morgan let out a weak laugh, though his quill made no movement. Nor did his eyes. They seemed quite focused on the table in front of them. "I can just imagine it now..."

The shaking in his voice broke Lucina's heart, but not nearly as much as the attempt he was making to appear alright.

"Morgan..." she whispered. "You know it's alright not to remember."

"But I want to!" Morgan said back, quiet desperation and frustration seeping into his voice. When he whined, he still sounded so young... "I- I want to remember being with you and Father too! All I can remember is Mother and that I want to be a tactician. But how am I supposed to command other people if I can't even remember who  _I_ am?"

Lucina stood and moved to the side of the table next to him. She wanted to place a hand on his shoulder, but she thought it better she didn't.

"Morgan," she began. "You've always been clever. You'll find a way through this, memories or no. Mother proved in this life that you don't need a past to build a future. As long as our bonds in this time are strong, destiny can be changed, and anything is possible. Don't get discouraged; you'll be able to follow in her footsteps just like you've wanted."

"And what if I can't? What if I'm not worthy of her ideals?" Morgan finally snapped, his voice wavering and eyes trying to squint against tears. "What if I never-"

"Then I'll help you until you are," Lucina replied with confidence and finality. It was not a question whether or not she and her family would stand by him; it was a fact. She'd not come this far and missed him so much to leave him to sorrow at the first sign of hardship. "We all will. Mother, Father, and myself, even Severa and all our friends and family members we've yet to find. It's what we're here for."

"Tactics is all I have, Lucina. What if I start to forget that too? I can't fail Mother too, not when I've failed everyone else already!"

"Morgan, I don't ever want to hear you say such a thing!" Her hand shot out to grab her brother's forearm. She needed him to listen when she continued. "You're my brother, whether you remember it or not.  _I_ remember  _you,_ and you could never disappoint me, nor could you ever 'fail' me. I'll be here for you whenever you need me, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you're protected, be that from physical harm or burdens of the mind."

"But I still can't talk about old times with you," Morgan said solemnly. His sister's abrasive words had taken him down from the point of near tears he'd been in, but his eyes remained downcast. "I still don't remember you being my sister."

"Morgan... I know I've told you a lot about our fond memories, from before Mother and Father died," Lucina began. She had recounted to him countless of tales of their once happy family, but not yet had she uttered a word of their misery as orphans. The feeling of being misplaced and alone wasn't one she wanted him remembering, even if it was an important time (as far as memories go) when they'd had only one another. "But you have no idea how much pain and suffering we saw after they were gone. In a way, I envy you for being able to forget it all. It may be for the best that you don't remember all our 'old times."

Morgan stayed silent for a moment, as if thinking what his next move would be. When he finally spoke up, his voice was more stable than it'd been before. A familiar look of resolve grew on his face, in his pinched blue-ish eyebrows and the tightening of his lips. It was a look both he and his sister had inherited from their father's side.

"I want to remember," he said. "Even if it's horrible, I want to remember. I've already heard how many good memories we had, and being able to remember those –  _really_ remember them – would make the bad times worth the pain, don't you think?"

Lucina found herself wondering when he'd grown up so much... When had he turned into such a sensible and mature boy? When had his voice begun deepening to resemble their father's? Almost three years they'd been apart. At their ages, that was too long. She'd missed him in his time of growing up, and she'd felt with him the past few weeks as if he were almost a stranger. But hearing him now, she was so glad to realize he was just the same boy he'd always been: an optimist who brought genuine positivity wherever he went. Even in an impossible situation he was focusing on the brighter parts of a life of pain that had blackened the hearts of others.

She truly had missed him.

"Perhaps," she resigned, the crease between her brows disappearing. With a sigh, she continued, "I don't think I truly remembered what an optimist you can be. It's refreshing to see again."

Without warning, Morgan scooted on his knees over to her side. The sleeves of his coat wrapped around her shoulders, twin coats blending into one another as Lucina still wore her mother's old cloak.

"Thank you for always being here for me," said Morgan quietly into her shoulder as he squeezed his arms around her. "It's been confusing since I woke up, and I know it's probably been weird for you to see me like this, but you've stuck by me. Thank you."

Lucina felt her heart melt and the tension in her shoulders that she didn't realize she had release. For once, things felt right again. She raised an arm and hugged her brother back. A contented laugh resounded in her throat. "Hmm... What else is an elder sister to do?"

A moment long they sat together on the bobbing floor, holding onto one another for the first time since reuniting. For Lucina, she had gotten a bit of her brother back. For Morgan, however, he had found a sister, and for the first time he could remember, he felt the new feeling of security, love, and calm all together. A feeling he would come to know only as 'family.'

Suddenly, a flash of white pain in the head interrupted all of Morgan's thoughts. With a groan, he keeled over, his eyebrows pinched together and teeth clenched.

"Morgan!" Lucina called worriedly, tightening her grip on his back with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Whoa!" he exclaimed through deep breaths. His eyes widened and his mouth suddenly went agape. "I just remembered something!"

Unable to decide between shock and excitement, Lucina's eyes widened. Hopeful, she replied, "Really?" 

"Yeah! Like a real memory from before! We were sitting at a table-" Morgan began to recount eagerly.

"Where?" asked Lucina, eager for details.

"I don't know. The palace maybe, but it's faint. But you laughed just like you did just now. You know, sort of like a 'hm'. You were looking right at me and you just 'hmm'd!" The boy took a few deep, happy breaths before continuing, remembering another detail. "Ha! And you still had Falchion at your side, even at the dinner table... or wherever it was we were."

"I still do that," his sister commented with a chuckle, at a loss for words and in disbelief. He must've remembered something from the year after their parents disappeared if she'd been in possession of and clinging to Falchion as she took to doing. But it was a laugh. It was something happy and positive, even in the midst of that horrible year. Perhaps Morgan had been right – the good memories within the bad would be worth remembering it all.

"I'm remembering things, Luci! This is fantastic!" Morgan sprung up from his seat, wobbling slightly as he tried to get is balance on the sea. "I can't wait to go tell Mother. Oh, and Father! Maybe I can remember something about him now too!"

"I'm glad for you, Morgan." Lucina beamed at her younger brother, glad to see him perked back up and chipper as she was used to. The use of his nickname for her came as pleasant music to her ears as well. She was glad to feel herself excited and full of joy, falling victim to the contagious enthusiasm that Morgan had inherited from their mother.

"I couldn't have done it without you." With a smile, he began to charge for the door to his quarters, but he thought twice before leaving. Quickly, he ran back to his sister, dropping to his knees behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders once more.

"Thank you, Lucina. You're a great sister," he said behind her. She contentedly closed her eyes and leaned her head back onto his, nuzzling their matching hair together. "And later I wanna hear some more about the future, okay? Let's really get this ball rolling and spark some more memories, what do you say? Good times, bad times... I wanna hear everything!"

"Of course," she replied as he made way for the exit once more.

"Great! I'll be back later. I have to go find Mom and Dad!" And with that, he was out charging down the halls, the wooden door swinging shut behind him.

Lucina took a second to absorb what had just happened, letting the new connection she'd rebuilt with her brother sink in. She felt closer to him now that she could see him for who he was again, and he was even beginning to remember her. Bit by bit, things were getting better. Letting out a breath that released a weight off her chest, she felt her shoulders shake and her eyes sting with happiness.

She had her brother back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually referenced my You May Call Me Marth chapter with Morgan cutting up the tree. Fun fact for ya.
> 
> I tried so hard to keep their dialogue sounding like their actual tone of voice. Hope I managed to somewhat pull it off. Morgan getting upset wasn't easy to base off anything since he's so damn happy all the time.


	21. Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we start with three kids - Severa and the blueberry twins - and now we get all the rest who are in Valm. Trying to keep the army's movement realistic considering leaving the continent where war is happening to travel back to the farthest corner of Ylisse because of some meanie bandits is not something that would be very smart.

 

* * *

**Champion**

* * *

 

After finding Morgan, the other 'second generation Shepherds' seemed to appear one after another. Here and there, someone in camp would catch wind of something strange happening in the area – raids and lootings brought to their ends by a mysterious youth, a child rebelling against a local crime lord. It didn't take long for such stories to become the Shepherds' cue to go to the scene of the crime, and no sooner did they do so than they had a new champion of time travel among their ranks.

It did take getting used to, finding the children. Before their presences became commonplace, many of the adults found sudden parenthood quite difficult to swallow – especially when they found out the children had personalities eccentric enough to challenge their parents!

Why, no one had expected the theatrical vigilante fighting in the village the Ylissean soldiers were marching through to be Lissa's son. Through when he'd begun making a scene and declaring the rekindling of old rivalries, there was no doubt left that he could be anyone _else's_  son but her's and Vaike's.

* * *

"Lucina!" Owain had called happily after the battle against the ruffians had been won. His slightly older cousin looked up from her conversation with her brother to see him running towards them. His mother and father stayed behind him, Lissa gesturing with glee at her arm. Excitedly, she pointed at the place where her son's Brand lie before running into her husband's open arms.

"Owain!" Lucina called back as her cousin reached her. "It's lovely to see you again."

"Likewise, my lost long cousin. It seems the ties in our sacred blood have drawn us to one another once more!" Somehow, she couldn't tell if the feeling washing over her was comfort at hearing his grandiose voice again or shock at suddenly remembering just how over-the-top he was. Though she supposed it was, in any case, best his inheritance from his father stopped there; 'The Owain' would've been far more... trying.

"I wouldn't call us  _long_ lost..." Lucina tried to add in gently. Of course, they hadn't seen one another since Owain was merely fifteen, but that was hardly over two years prior. Owain seemed to pay no mind to her notion, however, as his attention went immediately thereafter to Morgan.

"And Morgan!" he nearly announced, his hand dramatically clamping around his blade with a rattling of his armor. The younger boy jumped and his eyes widened slightly. "My long lost rival of the ages. Years I have trained, and now that I have Mystletainn at my side, I swear by Ike that you shall fall once and for all to Owain Dusk!"

Lucina sent out a silent prayer that Morgan would be able to handle his older cousin, considering the poor boy's memory loss. It would be enough to just meet a family member you didn't remember, she assumed, but Owain was a bit much to handle even for those who'd known him all his life.

Morgan stared speechless. How could he have prepared any proper response to such a declaration? From someone he was told was family, no less. Owain took his younger cousin's silence as an opportunity to think over his previous line.

"No, that doesn't sound right..." he mused, his voice leaving its theatrical flourish as a hand came to pinch his chin thoughtfully. He shook his head, leaving such thoughts behind as a smile grew on his face. Taking a step forwards, he opened up his arms and pulled his two cousins in to a too-tight hug. "It's really great to see you two again."

Hearing his regular voice gave Lucina a chance to finally remember Owain as she knew him best: warm and sincere, like his mother. Throughout the days when her father had trained the three cousins together in swordfighting, Owain had consistently been the one to bring (rarely intentional) humor to the long hours on the training grounds together. For Morgan, the fantasy his older cousin began to develop had been fun and provided him with a perfect older playmate.

Though now, those memories stayed in the past for the youngest cousin. In their childhood, Owain's persona had developed gradually; now that his memories were gone, Morgan was being faced with the height of his cousin's theatrics right off the bat. He shot Lucina a look from behind Owain's back that said more than words ever could. His eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed upwards as if to say, "Who in the world am I related to?"

Lucina simply acknowledged him with a smile and attempted to hug her cousin back, though her arms were quite tightly bound as it was. Of course Morgan couldn't remember their childhoods together, but she figured this reuniting would make for an interesting first memory of Owain.

* * *

After Owain, many of the Shepherds began to talk. Whose children were still out there? All married couples came under suspicion any time a noteworthy teenager was seen in the streets. Could that be their child perhaps?

Lucina, Severa, and Owain suddenly became very popular with the adults, and the question "So, which of your other friends could we be expecting to see around?" was the number one conversation topic.

* * *

One evening, Severa stood in front of the mirror in her tent, a book laying on a crate in front of her as she massaged a special oil into her damp hair to help keep it smooth and shiny. Every evening, she cursed her father for giving her such naturally unruly hair...

"If many women are competing for his attention, differentiation will definitely give you the cutting edge..." she mumbled aloud, leaning over to read the words off the pages as she continued work on her hair. Flipping through the pages of this book, which she'd found in a field the previous afternoon, had become a sick addiction. "Give or show him tangible or intangible evidence to suggest-"

"Severa! May I come in?"

"-that you are the best optio- AH!" The young girl screamed and clumsily slammed the book shut as the familiar voice of her mother met her ears. Cordelia stood behind her, already inside and looking stunned by her daughter's reaction. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking? Gawds!"

Coredlia's face turned apologetic as her eyes followed her daughter, who now hurriedly picked the book up off the ground to clasp it defensively in her arms. The title was turned towards her and clutched tightly against her chest. "I didn't mean to startle you. What were you reading?"

"None of your business!" Severa retorted, squeezing the book a bit tighter. Gods, she could not let herself get caught reading a book as corny as this one... Its title alone was embarrassing enough.

"Very well," replied her mother, hesitantly dropping the subject. Her real purpose for coming, besides attempting yet again to successfully carry out a conversation free of yelling with her daughter, was to fulfill a favor for Sumia. Her friend had been wanting to know who it was she would marry, if anyone at all. Though Cordelia suspected her fellow pegasus knight already had a man in mind considering all the time she was spending with the new dark mage who'd shown up in camp a few weeks prior. "I just came by to ask a quick question for-"

"Is it about any of my friends from the future?" Severa cut her off testily, knowing from experience what question was to come. She waited with a sour and expectant look on her face.

"Well..." Cordelia began to answer hesitantly. "Yes, but-"

"I already told you Lucina swore me to secrecy!" yelled the young girl, her knuckles angrily clasping tighter around her book's cover. "She'd kill me if she found out I told anyone anything they shouldn't know! Is that what you want?"

"Of course not, darling, but-"

"Then get out!" Severa's eyes widened angrily as she gestured with her mouth agape towards the flap to her tent.

"But, Severa, I ju-" Her mother tried to protest, not wishing to return to Sumia with no information. She took one step further into the tent, which was met by a more aggressive one from her daughter.

"The door's that way!"

"All I-" Unwittingly, Severa's arms had loosened, allowing her book to lean forward and the title to show as she tried to challenge her mother away. Cordelia's eyes couldn't help but involuntarily flicker downward. What she saw brought back too many embarrassing memories – and more importantly too much shock for her to not shout in surprise...

"Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight?!"

"OOOOOOOOUT!"

* * *

Regardless of Severa and the other children's pact of secrecy, Sumia received her answer soon enough. Within the weeks thereafter, she and Henry were wedded, and when a white-haired pegasus knight with a talent for tripping and making grand entrances was seen on the other end of the battlefield, it was known to all who she was.

* * *

"Here we go," Cynthia cooed to her pegasus as she gently ran a brush through its fur. "See? Now your fur is all clean, just like when you were Mother's. It wouldn't do for my number one sidekick to be covered in dirt anymore, would it?"

Her pegasus whinnied with a small shake of its head. Slowly, it brought its head forward to nuzzle its owner in the chest. Cynthia laughed happily and hugged her mount back around the neck.

"I'm sorry I wasn't taking such good care of you for a while there," Cynthia apologized. Only recently had her Mother indirectly pointed out the lack of attention the pegasus had been receiving, and Cynthia had since been trying her best to show her animal companion all the care she would show herself. Thankfully, the pegasus replied with a gentle and forgiving nudge of its head towards its owner.

The girl smiled widely (a look she'd inherited from her father), the understanding between herself and her steed warming her heart. She'd heard her mother talk of the special connection between pegasus and rider, but never had she understood it until recently. And she could even vividly recall her father's tale of a wolf who became like family to him, however she'd never understood how one could form a bond so close with an animal until now as she wrapped her arms around the strong neck of her pegasus.

"Now if only I could find some crows to be friends with me too... Father always looks so cool on the battlefield with a whole flock around him!" The young hero took a liking to the image of herself riding a white pegasus while a dark murder of crows drew the eye to her presence. "Just picture it: Cynthia, Commander of Wings... No, no, no... How about Cynthia, Ruler of the Skies! Yeah, that's it!"

* * *

Many of the children who returned with Lucina found, as Cynthia did, that they were similar to their parents in ways rather unexpected. Many found themselves taking comfort in such similarities which - due to untimely deaths or too little time spent together - were only coming to light now.

Inigo, for instance, had always known where his love of dancing had come from. All the words his mother was too shy to speak had always come out through one musical medium or another – an ability she unwittingly passed to him when he was a shier child. Dancing, singing, even occasional piano playing were all things he shared with his mother.

However, all his life, he'd thought himself different from his father in most every way.

Even the royal retainer – always dutiful, serious, and devoted to his liege – had had difficulty understanding how a flirtatious and theatrical dandy could possibly have been raised by him. Where was the boy's sense of responsibility? Hadn't he been brought up with the knowledge that he would serve Chrom's children once Frederick was no longer able to? Was there anything he'd passed down to his one and only son?

Though one night as the moon was rising ever further, the Shepherds couldn't seem to get enough of one another as they spoke loudly and jovially around the central bonfire in camp. It had been a rare day in which a good mood had ruled the army, and as plates were continually refilled and glasses of drink washed down again and again, the good mood bled into the night.

The night owl, Inigo, had snuck out of his tent unseen that night. He tried to keep to an alternating schedule of dancing and training, and that night was a night in which he fetched a sword and squeezed in some training, for only alone could he confidently try out new moves and steps to further his fighting style he'd been developing. He'd managed to sneak to the woods on the camp's edge without catching anyone's eye, but the sound of folk music still caught his ear. Stahl and Cordelia had taken out their harps and Maribelle had fetched her violin while the rest of the soldiers joined in by singing, clapping, stomping, or – in the case of his mother – dancing.

Inigo admired how comfortable his mother had been able to grow in front of her friends, taking a moment to stare at her from the shadows as she danced through the motions of a popular Northern Ylissean folk dance. Though soon came the need for a partner, at which point she very properly approached his father.

In no world would Inigo have pictured his father the type to join in, though join he did. Granted, it was a very proper dance akin to an upbeat waltz – nothing too terribly wild, of course. But as the young man got lost watching his parents move around the bonfire, memories of sitting in on dance lessons for the prince and princess rushed back to him.

In a time before the war in Valm became too urgent, a fair few parties were thrown in the royal palace, where Inigo and his family had lived on account of his father's position. Frederick and Olivia (as well as Maribelle, on occasion) had been left to teach the young royalty how to handle themselves in front of nobility, and that included dancing. His mother would play simple songs on a piano as his father and Maribelle would help guide the children through the motions of elegant dances. Inigo had always secretly wished to be on the floor dancing instead of on the piano bench next to his mother. Though getting to watch a looser and happier side of his father - which proved quite easy to forget existed - was not all bad, in retrospect.

Inigo lightheartedly flipped his sword around in his hand, a small smile growing on his face. "Well, what do you know?" he mused to himself as the song continued, backed up by the voices and claps of the soldiers. More couples joined in, but his mother and father remained happily in the middle. "I guess I may have an inheritance from you after all."

Though he didn't have much time to get lost in thought. It was late, and he had to get his training in sometime. The sound of a stern voice ran through his head, reminding him that "Honor is of the body; hone the body, and honor shall grow strong." And the heaven's knew no woman worth her salt would fall for a man of dishonor!

* * *

With the overwhelming majority of the children, however, the similarities to their parents were plain to see, even if one party or another wasn't particularly pleased to see it.

Gerome, for instance, had been told his whole life long that he was 'his father's son.' A serious boy who leaned toward the standoffish side and spoke his mind in short. In addition, his entire appearance barring his ears screamed of his father. These were facts that even the Shepherds of the past pointed out, along with their 'humorous' new jape of spelling his name Ger'ome to further prove their point.

Though the boy wanted not to be compared to a man who was not truly his father. To Gerome, it mattered little that Lon'qu was merely a younger version of the man he'd once been so proud to take after. He may have looked like his father, but he was not the same man. Gerome knew that, and yet when Minerva let Lon'qu lay his hand on her snout, when he saw that man smile at him again for the first time in years, he found it more and more difficult to resist letting the word "Father" fall off his tongue.

* * *

Maribelle, as well, faced a conflict of conscience when it came to family matters. She was delighted by her son's beautiful ability to make his violin sing, and she would be lying if she said his tea wasn't superb. Clearly, she'd taught him the basics well.

But the very moment when he began to converse with his father, their shared farmer dialect growing stronger through kinship, she felt a desperate need to close her ears and pretend she'd never heard. How absent had she been that Brady had been allowed to pick up such an uncouth manner?

Though it was clear to any of the Shepherds to see that no matter how often she complained and insisted on proper speech from her son, she once again was just flaring up too quickly, almost as if by reflex or instinct. For when she found herself being roughly hugged by her son, her hair becoming frizzed and mussed up, a sweet smile began to grow on her face that she couldn't hold back, and her eyes closed contentedly as her head leaned onto Brady's shoulder. Every single time, without fail.

* * *

By the time the Shepherds had traveled the Valmese continent, there were still married couples anxious to meet their children. Though it became clear they would not find them in their current corner of the world.

Lucina explained once more how time traveling had left them all over the world, meaning their children were almost definitely out there  _somewhere_ in a place they'd not yet looked. It was just more likely that they would be found once they returned to Ylisse. This knowledge inspired most everyone to fight harder against Walhart's army, knowing that if they did, they could return home to find their children and friends. The young time travelers found in Valm were eager to see their friends once more, and the parents were more than anxious to find, protect, and meet their offspring.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Owain is hard to write for, Severa is an a-hole, I could totally see Cynthia loving the crow entrances, Fred's hips don't lie, and Gerome legit looks like Lon'qu going to comic con. Also I always actually prefer Vaike!Brady and MaleMU!Owain, but there's no MaleMU this time around, so Vaike was best for Owain and that left Donnel and Ricken for Brady.
> 
> Also, look up that honor quote. It's from the knight's code according to Sully ;)


	22. Rival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan and Owain have a unique spin on sparring. Chrom wants a chance to try things his way with his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine the Two Falchions cutscene just with crazy, cringy move names.

 

* * *

**Rival**

* * *

 

"Radiant... DAAAAWN!"

"Too slow! I parry your move with ease!"

"Inconceivable!"

"And the rightful king of Ylisse strikes back! Flamingo PUUUUNCH!"

" _Ka-ping!_ The scion of legend deflects your fireball with a mere swing of his sword!"

Chrom knew not for how long his son and nephew had been... dueling (if one might call it that), but he knew he himself had been standing and observing since Morgan unleashed his 'Magniloquent Wallop'. That must've been a good two or three minutes ago.

Just what on earth was he bearing witness to?

"Chrom?" came a voice from behind him, still clear enough to be heard over the shouts of the two cousins in the meadow. Chrom turned and saw his wife and sister approaching him, tomes in both of their hands. He sent the two of them a smile as Robin rested a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing? I thought you wanted to try sword training with Morgan today."

"Yeah!" Lissa piped in. "You didn't chicken out did you?"

"I did want to train with Morgan," Chrom replied, looking into Robin's concerned eyes. She had been as much an advocate for this training session as he was, hoping this could be the chance he needed to bond with his son. Training seemed to have been so important to Lucina; perhaps it would be the same with Morgan and spark some memories. "But..."

He gestured with his head towards the meadow before them, where Owain was leaping through the air with a wooden sword while shouting out "Killer move: Awakening Vander!" This duel seemed to be a mixture between fantasy and real battle, as only half the moves the boys were shouting out were being physically performed.

"Oh."

Morgan deflected his cousin's blow with his own sword before pushing him back and beginning to hack away at him. Left and right the two boys swung as they spun in circles, pacing around one another while neither gained an edge.

"They're fighting so violently..." Lissa noted with worry in her tone.

"I've seen these moves before," Robin realized. "Granted without the... embellishments. It seems Morgan hasn't forgotten quite everything."

"He fights with the same form as Lucina," Chrom elaborated. It was true, he could see the same stances and strikes as he had been taught by his father, the same ones his daughter claimed he taught her and her brother and cousin. Morgan's swings looked slightly less concentrated and controlled, tending to be more brutal like those of his mother, but it was clear to see who had taught him to wield a sword.

"They both learned from you. Or so Lucina says."

"Someone's going to get hurt..." Lissa's fretting continued, oblivious to the conversation taking place around her.

"A bolt of thunder strikes you from my blade. Thoronic Wrath!" Morgan shouted seriously, though his enjoyment was clear. He defensively brought his arm in, raising with sword up horizontally before launching himself at Owain.

"Unwise!" Owain exclaimed, taking up the same stance and mirroring his younger cousin. "I know your every move, deplorable fiend!" Their swords clashed, the sound of metal ringing through the air before both boys stopped, breathing heavily and wiping sweat off their brows.

"It seems we're at a stalemate, my rival. Till the next fated hour is tolled!" Owain cried, slightly out of breath as he held a dramatic hand in the air.

"I'll not let you off so easy next time!" Morgan replied dramatically, also through huffs for air. "I swear it! I SWEEEEEEEEAR!"

And before a moment's pause was over, both boys broke into smiles and began to laugh, clutching one another's shoulders as their chests shook with chuckling.

"Well fought, you two!" Robin congratulated them from between Chrom and Lissa. The two younger boys looked up, shocked to see they'd been being watched. Both stared at their family as blush crept onto their cheeks.

"How long have you been watching us?" Morgan asked as he and Owain approached the adults, sweaty and out of breath.

"Not long," answered Robin.

"A bit longer," said Chrom.

" _Too_ long!" Lissa stamped a foot on the ground, attempting to look stern. The result was her usual pouty face. "You two are going to kill each other fighting like that!"

"We're rivals, Mother!" Owain objected, roughly placing an arm around Morgan's shoulder and jostling him side to side. "We can't turn our back on fate's path for us!"

"Ugh, not you too," Lissa sighed, this conversation sounding all too familiar to her. It seemed Chrom and Vaike's 'rivalry' went deep into their genes, leading it to be passed to their sons. "You sound just like your father."

"Don't worry, Aunt Lissa. I was so close to beating him this time!" Morgan boasted. "So close to ending this rivalry once and for all! Then you won't have to worry about a thing. I'll have humiliated Owain so badly he won't ever raise a sword against me again."

Owain let go of his cousin's shoulder with an offended look on his face as Lissa glared accusingly at her brother and sister-in-law. It was no mystery where Morgan had gotten his prideful hatred of losing from.

"That is  _your_ son," she said accusingly, prompting sheepish grins from the boy's parents. Turning her attention back to the two teens, she declared with a scolding flourish, "Well, one of these days, one of you will get seriously injured, and  _I_ , for one, will  _not_ be healing you up if you do!"

Owain's hand went guiltily to his bicep, rubbing it gently as he asked, "So I take that to mean you won't heal the gash on your favorite son's arm?"

Lissa let out a concerned and defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping. "Of course I will! I just wanted to sound threatening!" She grabbed her son by the arm and examined the bleeding cut just above his elbow. "Ugh, you couldn't have become a sage or something safe like me? Come on, I'll go get my staff."

Lissa dragged her son away to her tent, leaving Morgan and his parents alone.

"Phew! Fighting with Owain really takes it out of me," the young boy exclaimed, wiping his brow on the sleeve of his coat. "I'm off to the bathing tent. Unless, did you two need something?" He looked his parents in the eyes expectantly, awaiting whatever it was they'd come to see him about during his match against Owain.

Robin turned towards Chrom with a similar expression to her son, squeezing his shoulder with light encouragement.

"Uhm, well..." Chrom began uncertainly. He hadn't quite been expecting to find out that his son already had a sparring partner, leaving him in an awkward position of facing turned tables. "You see, I was wondering, Morgan, if perhaps you'd like to try training with me a few days a week. But I can see you've already-"

"Are you kidding?" Morgan gasped before his father had a chance to finish. His eyes widened as his shoulders straightened up at attention. "That would be great! I wanted to ask you myself, but I always figured you were too busy with Lucina."

A feeling of relief washed over Chrom. A smile came to his face as he met Morgan's excited eyes. "Not at all. I'd be happy to get the time with you," he said. Ever since Morgan had arrived, Chrom had been trying to find some way to interact with him. He seemed to be the only weak link in the family with no connection to the boy. Morgan remembered his mother, and Lucina remembered him, but neither father nor son had any recollection of one another.

He knew he loved Morgan as a father should from the moment he discovered the boy was his son, but there was still something missing. He wanted to get to know his son like his wife and daughter did. And perhaps along the way, a memory would surface from the future. Perhaps something would come up to prove he'd been a good father to his son in the future – a fact the lord was beginning to doubt with each day his son had no recollection of him. "And who knows? Maybe this will help your project."

"Oh, this definitely bodes well for Project: Get Memories of Dad Back!" Morgan nodded vigorously, bursting with excitement. He gripped the sword left in his hands tighter, looking beside himself with anxiousness. "You know what? Forget the bath! Do you think we could start now?"

"Uh-" Chrom stammered, caught off guard by Morgan's enthusiasm. "Of course!"

"Great! Wait right here! I have to go get my better gear from my tent, but I'll be back before you know it." Morgan ran off to his tent to fetch his finer wristguards and gloves, having been using the cheaper ones when sparring with his cousin. But he knew even without personal experience that training with his father would be a different league entirely.

Chrom and Robin watched as their son excitedly ran off, a weight off their chest knowing that Chrom's training proposal had worked. Robin caught sight of her husband lost in thought and staring with a small smile at where Morgan had been, and she rubbed his shoulder once more.

"I think he remembers you," she whispered with a smile. "Even if he doesn't realize it. His brain doesn't remember learning swordfighting, but his muscles do, and I think it's the same with his friends and family, Chrom. He doesn't remember you in his conscience, but... in his heart, I think he does."

A comfortable, peaceful pause followed thereafter. Chrom let out a sigh and raised his hand to his shoulder to rest it over his wife's lingering fingers. "Time will tell, I suppose."

Morgan came charging back towards them at that moment, wrists guarded and a proper sword in his hand. On his face he wore and excited smile laced with the faintest touch of competitiveness. He was eager to go up against his father.

"It already has," Robin commented, a knowing humor in her tone. She was right, for it was plain to see that the young boy already loved and admired his father just as any son would, though he had no conscious basis to draw such feelings from. It was all coming from a natural gut feeling.

"Now... draw your sword and go annihilate him like you do to our daughter. He could use a classic example of our family bonding!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure if Owain has the "style of House Ylisse" as stated in his paralogue, Chrom probably trained him seeing as the only other living member of House Ylisse is a non-sword-wielding Lissa.


End file.
